


The New Age

by a_shot_in_the_dark



Category: Common Law
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 33,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_shot_in_the_dark/pseuds/a_shot_in_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The country's been taken over by a new group calling for a New Age. There are rebels in hiding all over the country. One of them, Travis Marks, has been captured and is being held. His handler? Officer Wesley Mitchell. But as the two begin to depend on each other... even like each other a little... which side will they choose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Common Law or any of the characters. 
> 
> So... this is my first multi-chapter fanfic. Let's see how this goes. Inspired by the song _Radioactive_ by Imagine Dragons
> 
> lolol I only have a vague idea of where this is going. And I just guessed at the rating for now. I am flying by the seat of my paaaants. There will definitely be romance and fighting, though. Isn't it wonderful to get crazy fic ideas at 5 am?
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Forgive me for flooding the Common Law section. I just keep getting ideas.~~
> 
>  
> 
> Comments, reviews, whatever are always appreciated! Enjoy!

Travis’ body felt tired after having been shocked. He glared at the weapon that hung on his kidnapper’s belt. It looked like a cattle prod to Travis. Two of the officers dragged him along down the narrow hallway. He hated that they called themselves that. Officers of the New Age. Travis used to be a real cop. 

He felt himself being lifted, and then something soft underneath him. He moved his head so he could look at them, be disgusted with them, sneer at their ugly faces… but they weren't ugly faces at all. One was a blond- lightly tanned, blue eyes, thin, and muscled- and the other was of a darker complexion, his dark curls hanging in his eyes. The darker man was bigger and obviously in charge. The blond met Travis’ gaze, his icy blue eyes studying him. 

“Mitchell, he’s under your care,” the bigger man told the blond. However Mitchell felt about it, his face was motionless, save for a slight twitch. Annoyance maybe?

“Yes, sir.”

The darker man left them alone. Mitchell turned to Travis. He had his arms behind his back and his feet close together. His blue uniform was spotless, every single button shining as if he cleaned them every night. In fact, everything about Mitchell seemed to be _perfect_. Even his hair, though it was slightly messy, seemed to be messy in a neat way. Travis decided he hated him.

“I’m Officer Wesley Mitchell. I’ll be your handler while-”

“ _Handler_?” Travis said, “What am I? An animal?”

Wes remained neutral. “According to the handbook, any officer in charge of a rebel is officially called their handler.”

“Thanks, man. That’s really humane of you,” Travis snapped, trying to get comfortable on the cot he was on.

“While you’re here, you will be treated as a guest, but you will defer to the superior officers. We’d also like to ask you some questions about the rebel leaders.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Travis laughed, “And I bet you’ll ask nicely, huh, baby?”

He could see Wes clench his jaw and something sparked inside him. It was delicious to get this kind of reaction out of Wes, to ruffle his feathers and make his face turn pink. At least Travis found a hobby.

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” Travis teased, trying to get more of a rise out of his handler. But Wes didn't react with anger. Travis couldn't quite tell what the twitch of his brow meant, if he was confused or upset.

“You’ll be escorted to our room as soon as you've been looked over.”

And with that, Wes Mitchell walked out of the room, not even giving Travis a backwards glance. Wes hadn't been a friend by any means, but the teasing had helped calm Travis down. Now he was alone in what appeared to be a hospital, waiting to be “looked over.”

It wasn't that Travis wasn't used to being alone. He had been for most of his life. Always moving on to the next family, to the next partner, the next hideout. No, he was used to being alone.

A woman in white walked up to him, silently poking and prodding him.

“Hey, hey, how about a drink before the foreplay?”

The woman ignored him, pulling out a small device and pressing it to his arm. He felt a sharp, stabbing pain and let out a howl, wrenching his arm free. There was a small, deep cut in his arm. 

“What the hell was that?”

The woman gave him a look as if she thought herself too good to be speaking to him.

“Your ID and tracking device.”

He gave her a horrified look, pressing his fingers to the wound. He toyed with the idea of digging it out right then and there, but the woman grabbed his arm and cleaned and bandaged it.

Two officers approached his cot. The brunette pulled him up forcefully.

“This way, rebel.”

“Ow! Easy, easy!”

Travis walked with them into the hallway again. As they made their way through the building, Travis was preparing himself. They turned down an empty hallway, and Travis decided to take a chance. He elbowed the brunette in the stomach, then knocked out the other officer. Time to escape.


	2. Two

Wes was in his quarters, cleaning the small guest room. It didn't take long, though, and he was soon left to his own thoughts as he waited for Travis to arrive.

The man had made him burn in a way no one ever had. Burn was the only word he could put to the sensation. In anger, he thought to himself. An angry blaze that had yet to stop burning in his chest.

He fluffed the pillow again. Wes was fine being alone. He’d been alone for a while now. His decision to join the New Age group had made sure of that. Guilt lay heavily on his heart. They didn't understand, couldn't see the blood on his hands.

Wes began to get impatient. Travis had hardly been injured at all in his capture, and the trackers were easily inserted. He brushed his fingers over his own scar. It made him uncomfortable. He supposed it was hard to tell who was an enemy and who was a friend nowadays, but it felt… dehumanizing. Intrusive. Wrong.

He got up and went to the door, checking outside. No one was there. He frowned and decided to go search for him. The halls were mostly quiet at this time of night. He turned a corner and was met with the sight of two fellow officers on the ground, one gripping his stomach and the other unconscious. Wes hurried up to them, checking the unconscious woman’s pulse.

“What happened?”

“Travis Marks! He’s loose. Come on, we've got to-”

The officer collapsed to the ground, and Wes removed his needle from him. He couldn't believe he just did that. The drug would make him sleep. Unfortunately, the drug also tended to cause people to forget recent events. Wes hesitated, then took out another needle and stuck the woman with it. This was a terrible idea. Wes didn't fly by the seat of his pants. He thought things out, followed the rules. But something told him life here for Travis would be terrible if he let someone else catch him. He just didn't know why he cared so much.

He quickly disposed of the used needles and dragged the officers into the empty break room, posing them so they would think they just fell asleep, or that’s what he hoped they would think. He raced through the halls, ignoring the strange looks he got. There was no way Travis could get out. The entrance/exit was heavily guarded. But it would save Wes a lot of headache if he could catch him first.

Just then, he spotted him pulling at a locked door. Wes wasted no time. He sprinted up behind him and slammed Travis’ head into the door hard, knocking him out. He told himself he did it because it would be suspicious to use three needles in one day, but he knew he wanted Travis to owe him. This way, he’d still be treated as a guest. No one would remember what happened. He’d stay with Wes and be treated very nicely. Had he been caught, he would have been put in isolation. 

Wes groaned as he pulled Travis’ body up. Wes was strong, but Travis was bigger. He dragged his body slowly through the hall, taking a roundabout way to avoid people. He stopped at a corner when he heard footsteps, praying they wouldn't look to the side. Two women walked by, arguing heatedly and oblivious to anything out of the ordinary. Wes waited till they were gone, then pulled Travis over to his door. He dropped Travis unceremoniously on the floor once inside.

The man looked incredibly innocent unconscious. He looked so worry-free and relaxed. He wouldn't be when he was awake after pulling a stunt like that. Wes was going to kill him after all he went through for him. …No, not for him. Wes just didn’t want unnecessary trouble.

He had half a mind to just leave him there like that. He deserved it. Wes went into the bathroom and got ready for bed. He locked the door and turned off the lights. He hesitated outside his bedroom, looking back at Travis on the floor. With a sigh, he pulled an extra pillow and blanket out of his closet and tucked Travis in. Travis stirred then. Wes leaned away, ready for him to attack. Travis sat up quickly, only to moan and grab his head.

“What the hell did you do to me, man?”

“I saved your ass, that’s what.”

Travis spluttered. “What? No you didn't! You slammed my head into a door!”

“Even if you could have found the exit, you would have had to fight four officers and a complicated lock. I saved you from being locked away and isolated.”

“What about the officers?” he asked, still rubbing his head.

Wes got up and went into his kitchen, getting him a bag of ice. Travis accepted it gratefully.

“They won’t remember,” Wes replied uncomfortably. Travis glanced at him with suspicion. 

“Why not?”

Wes shook his head and stood. “Saved me a lot of headache. Go to sleep. We’ll get you checked out in the morning. And don’t even think about running again.”

Travis scowled, watching Wes walk away. There was something about Wes Mitchell… he looked and acted like a robot. But what he did didn't seem to be following the rules. A side of Wes that he refused to show the world.

Travis rolled his eyes and settled back down onto his pillow. Yeah, right. He was reading way too much into this. Wes was just trying not to get in trouble. And that just made his blood boil. He’d get the robot to crack. Tomorrow, he’d _really_ raise hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa where did my notes go from before?
> 
> Anyway, I've written a lot on this project already! Sexual tension, next chapter! >:D
> 
> Comments, reviews, whatever are appreciated! I'll put up the next chapter tomorrow.


	3. Three

“Hey.”

Travis opened one eye. Wes was leaning over him, frowning.

“It’s already 7 am,” Wes said. Travis flopped on his side and away from Wes. He heard the other man let out an annoyed huff.

“Travis, come on. We need to go get breakfast.”

That woke Travis up. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Fine. I just hope you know you’re a pain in the ass, Wes.”

“Who said you could call me Wes?” 

“Who said you could call me Travis?” Travis asked right back, giving him a blinding smile. Wes was already showered and dressed in his uniform. Travis wondered what he looked like in jeans.

Wes rolled his eyes. “I told you to respect the officers.”

“Well, I don’t believe your leader should be in power. Therefore, you are just Wes to me. You got any clothes for me?”

Wes frowned. It seemed he hadn't thought about that. “You can wear some of mine for now.”

Travis watched him disappear into his bedroom and reappear with sweats and a t-shirt.

“What? I can’t wear one of them shiny uniforms?” he asked as he took the clothes.

“…No. The uniform belongs to a-”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Travis said, dismissing his rant with a wave of his hand, “I’ll go shower.”

Travis decided to take his sweet, sweet time in the shower, just to make Wes angry. When he finally came out, Wes was sitting in his armchair, tapping his foot impatiently. Travis grinned.

“Don’t frown, baby, I’m done,” he said, tugging at his own shirt, “Though you’re a pretty skinny little guy. This is so tight.”

“We’ll get you some clothes later.”

Wes stood and walked to the door. Travis should have paid attention to the code Wes was typing in to open the door, but he was distracted by the angry flush that had spread to Wes’ neck.

He followed the man down the hall and to the right. The cafeteria was huge. It looked like all the other rooms he’d been in, like Wes’ room- stale, pale, cold, barren. A string of people were lined up to put food on their trays. Wes handed Travis a tray and got in line.

“Oh, boy! We’re back in high school,” Travis said sarcastically. Wes gave him a warning glance, which only made Travis laugh. When they reached the end of the line and had piled food on their plates, Wes held out his arm. The woman behind the counter used some sort of device to scan it, looking to her computer. Travis stepped closer to look at the screen. He silently read the profile. It wasn't much. Wes’ name, appearance, and age (Travis felt a smug satisfaction about being older). It looked like there was more that that computer couldn't access. The information disappeared and Travis looked away, disappointed. He didn't know why, but he wanted to know more, unravel the mystery that was Wes Mitchell. It also couldn't hurt if he could access files on important leaders.

“Next, please.”

Travis stepped forward hesitantly. The woman took his arm roughly and scanned it. An even skimpier profile on Travis popped up on the screen. He followed Wes over to the tables.

“Gonna introduce me to your friends, baby?” he teased. Wes turned a little pink.

“Stop calling me that,” he hissed.

“I call everyone that,” Travis said, shrugging. He was surprised when Wes steered clear of the crowded tables and set his tray down at an empty one. Travis sat opposite of him.

“So… no friends?”

Wes didn’t answer. Travis felt a small pang of sympathy for the man. No, he couldn't. Wes was the enemy. Wes was someone Travis hated, toyed with, teased, not someone he felt _sorry_ for.

And Travis was going to ruin this perfect room. He was going to mess up that perfect man. After he ate his fill, Travis dumped his tray all over the table and floor. People stopped talking and looked over at them. Travis reached down, scooped up some oatmeal and threw it at Wes’ chest. 

It hit Wes’ chest with a satisfying ‘splat.’ It covered his shiny gold buttons and dripped down into Wes’ lap. He looked up at Wes. His face was the best part. Wes was shaking in rage, his face a deep crimson. Suddenly, Wes was standing and grabbing Travis by the shirt, pulling him out into the hall and down an empty corridor.

Wes pushed Travis against a wall. He was so furious that he wanted to punch Travis. He embarrassed him in front of all of his fellow officers, ruined his uniform, made a mockery of him… but the rant he was going to give died in his throat. A small, strained noise came out instead, as he found himself too close to Travis. Far too close. He could feel the warmth coming off his body, and smell his soap on Travis’ skin. Had he noticed just how blue Travis’ eyes were before? He noticed now. Wes could feel his own heart racing in his chest, his face hot. Wes wasn’t sure what he wanted to do anymore. He swallowed and quickly released Travis.

“Come on. I’ve got to change and then I’ll deliver you to your first interrogation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I should probably note that I go back and forth on whose view it is. I try not to change in the middle of chapters, but I just wanted Wes' view for that last part ;) Poor guy's so confused.


	4. Four

Wes had changed, made sure Travis’ head wound wasn't serious at the hospital, then dropped him off in a room with a couple of officers. Same blue uniforms. Same blank room. They asked him questions about himself- his name, his age, his past. He answered some questions, and refused to answer others. They were using the buddy routine. It wasn't going to work on him. Finally, they released him, telling him he could venture into authorized areas.

Travis accepted the chance eagerly. He now realized he couldn't just escape. He needed a plan. He wondered if the computers contained codes to locks. He walked around, looking curiously at all of the doors. He recognized some names on the doors, belonging to higher-ups in the organization. He tried the knob of one door. Locked.  
Travis wasn't great at picking locks, but he’d picked up a few tips here and there. If he could just find a bobby pin or a paperclip… He hurried back to Wes’ room. The neat freak _had_ to have a paperclip somewhere. Wes had given him the code to open the lock. Travis tried a few different combinations before getting it right. Wes must be off doing his job or something. 

Travis looked around in the living room, going through the drawers. A deck of cards, a notepad, pens. Nothing of interest. He looked around, his eyes falling on the door to Wes’ bedroom. It was cracked open. Travis pushed it open. The room was kind of pathetic-looking, like it was a hotel, like Wes had never even bothered to put anything up. He went to the dresser, opening the drawers and peeping inside.

He chuckled. “Boxers man, huh?”

It felt intrusive, but Travis justified it in his mind with the fact that he was a hostage. He should be allowed to do whatever he damn well pleased to his kidnappers. He looked through the other drawers, a little surprised at all the normal t-shirts, jeans, and sweatpants. He wondered when Wes wore them. He’d been so groggy last night, he didn't remember if Wes had been wearing pajamas or not. He opened the closet. So he had multiple uniforms and not just one. He supposed it made laundry easier.

He spotted a desk in the corner. Everything on top of the desk was neatly organized, exactly in its place. Travis had the horrible temptation to mess everything up. He moved a few things over a couple inches, smiling to himself. He opened a small drawer in the front, taking out a letter and reading it. It was a letter from his mom. The letter was overformal and wooden. It didn't really seem to talk about anything important, nor did it send any love Wes’ way. Travis put it away, annoyed at the heaviness in his heart.

In the next drawer, he found a box of paperclips. Travis grabbed it eagerly and took a paperclip. He hesitated, then took Wes’ hand sanitizer off the top of his desk and hid it in his underwear drawer.

He made his way back to the hallway of offices, selecting one at random. He picked at the lock hurriedly, thanking Jesus when he managed to open it without anyone seeing.  
He sat down at the computer, cursing. How was he supposed to come up with a password? The drawers offered no help. They were filled with office supplies and comic books. He tried some of the characters’ names. Nothing worked. He searched the top of the desk. There were empty bubble gum wrappers, a figurine of what looked to be a wolf woman, and more office supplies. He tried anything he could think of, but he was denied each time.

Suddenly, the door opened and an attractive female stepped inside. 

“You’re dead, Marks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get so excited when writing this story that I just want to post everything I've written so far. I'll just sit on my hands until tomorrow. Sorry about the cliffhanger! I'm really excited about the things coming up. Enjoy!


	5. Five

Travis grabbed the first thing he could reach- which… happened to the wolf figurine- and held it up in defense. The brunette woman laughed at him.

“Kidding. Put my limited edition ‘Apocalypse Moon’ figurine down, though, or I won’t be kidding.”

Travis put it down, looking at her like she had two heads. 

“That was your idea of a joke?”

She shrugged. “People say I have a weird sense of humor. Get out of my chair.”

Travis obeyed, still confused. She took his place, signing on to her computer and going to work on something.

“Um… who are you?”

“The person whose name is on the plaque outside the door,” she answered with a smile, glancing at him, “Or to my friends, Kendall.”

“And… am I your friend?”

“Definitely. I've been working my way inside the New Age group for quite a while. While you’re not a very important member of the resistance-”

Travis raised an eyebrow.

“-I did get asked to make an accident happen. You’re going to have to wait, though.”

“You’re going to help me escape?” Travis asked in disbelief.

“Yep.”

He listened to her clicking and typing for a little bit, stunned that he had a friend. That he wasn't alone.

“When?”

“About a month. They’re planning a big celebration, something involving the leader. And no, you can’t assassinate him while you’re here. We listen to the big muckity-mucks, and they say no. They said, ‘Kendall, use your amazing computer skills to save Marks’ ass. You are the bomb.”

Travis gave her a skeptical look.

“Okay, maybe not in those exact words. But Money pulled some strings to have you escape. Don’t ruin the opportunity, Travis. One month.”

He nodded. “Hey, Kendall? Can I look at a profile?”

“ I've already hacked into everyone’s profile. The really juicy stuff isn't available to me.”

“Not even on an officer?”

She spun to face him, squinting at him. “Which officer?”

“Wesley Mitchell.”

She clicked around and Wes’ face popped up on the screen. Travis leaned over beside her, reading as fast as he could. Wes used to be a lawyer, used to be _married_.

“Why the hell would he change his career just like that?” he asked, looking to Kendall. She just shrugged. He read on. Wes evidently had a lot of money in the bank. Two parents, no siblings. It looked like he didn't remarry either. His emergency contact was his ex-wife. Alex MacFarland. 

“And you know we can’t interact in public or you’d blow my cover, right?” Kendall asked. Travis looked at her, grinning at how close they were.

“We could interact in private right now.”

“…Don’t make this weird. Done. That’s all the sneaky reading up on your boyfriend you get. Shoo,” she said, waving him away. Travis slipped out of her office and headed back to his room. It was nice knowing he wasn't alone. Wes was sitting in the living room, drinking some coffee. There was a plate of food on the coffee table.

“You were late, so I brought you back lunch.”

“That was sweet. Thank you, honey,” Travis cooed. Wes glared.

“Just eat your goddamn food.”

Travis sat on the couch, immediately stuffing his face. Wes glanced at him, disgust clearly visible on his face.

“Want some?” Travis offered, speaking with his mouth full and offering Wes a hunk of bread. Wes shook his head, wincing at the crumbs that fell on the carpet.

“Why did you do that?” Wes asked softly. Travis swallowed his food and looked up curiously. 

“Why did I do what?”

Wes fidgeted a little. “Throw food at me. Dump your tray.”

“Because I hate you. Because I hate this place.”

Wes was silent for a bit, sipping at his coffee.

“What did you do with my hand sanitizer?”

“Nothing.”

“Travis!”

Travis chuckled. “You’ll find it soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm so nervous. Dramatic things are coming up... I hope I'm doing this story justice.


	6. Six

Wes did find his sanitizer. He grabbed the sanitizer and slammed his underwear drawer shut, throwing the guest bedroom door open. Travis bolted up in bed. Wes held up the bottle, causing Travis to let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh, good job! You found it.”

Wes was good at catching subtlety, and he caught Travis’ eyes skimming his half-naked body. Something about that brought back the burn. Anger. He was angry.

“Don’t touch my stuff, asshole,” Wes growled. He turned back to his room to get dressed in something more than a towel.

By the time Wes was dressed, Travis was… still asleep. He went back into his room and shook him.

“Travis, get up. We’re going to go work out,” he said. The man sat up a little as Wes ran out and grabbed the clothes he had picked up for Travis. They were his size at least.

“We? Why are you bringing me?” Travis asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Because I need to keep track of you at least part of the day. And I need to show you the way to the gym. It’ll be something for you to do while you’re here.”

Travis made a whiny noise. “I had a bad dream.”

Wes put the clothes in his lap, grabbing Travis’ shoes from across the room. “See? I did you a favor waking you up. Just put on your clothes so we can work out. We can take a shower after-”

“We?” Travis smirked, “Are we sticking _that_ close together?”

Wes turned bright red. He hated how easily his face could heat up.

“Shut up, Travis. I meant we’d both take showers separately,” Wes said, stomping away, “Just get dressed, idiot.”

He and Travis ate breakfast bars on their way to the gym. It didn't take long to get there. The gym area was rather impressive, though it needed to be with the number of people working there.

“Wow. Okay, what first?” Travis asked. Wes ignored him, going into a corner to stretch. Wes huffed in irritation as Travis joined him with a grin. He ignored him, working on stretching himself as best as he could. He could easily reach the ground bending over.

“Um… bathroom,” he heard Travis say quietly. He looked up, watching him hurry into the bathroom. Wes went on without him, doing a couple laps on the track. Travis ran up beside him when he came back.

“You’re not going very fast.”

“I go for distance, not time,” he said, keeping up his pace. Travis increased his speed a little. Wes frowned and sped up to get even with him. Travis went a little faster. Wes caught up with him. Pretty soon, they were sprinting to the finish line. Travis won. Not by much and because Wes had already done two laps, Wes told himself.

“I’m the king of the wooooooorld!” Travis cried, dancing in place. Wes rolled his eyes and pushed him a little.

“Will you stop making a scene everywhere we go?” he asked, heading to the weights room.

“What? You scared?” Travis taunted him. He followed him into the weights room.

“No. I’m going to lift weights. Come on. I need you to spot me.”

Travis seemed to hesitate before following him, helping him put weights on the barbell. Wes lifted a decent amount before allowing Travis to lift some.

“Watch me, baby,” he said with a grin, lifting a heavier amount of weight then Wes. His muscles strained against the weight, and his dark skin was dotted with sweat. Wes felt something deep in his stomach and his mouth went dry. He had the horrible temptation to touch the muscle there, run his hands across his arms. 

Travis put the barbell up. He gave Wes a cheeky grin. “What’s the matter, baby? Jealous?”

No. _No_. Wes was mistaken. He was just all worked up from working out. Travis gave him a concerned look.

“Wes? You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go back and shower-” 

Travis opened his mouth to speak.

“- _separately_.”

By the time they had both showered, Wes had entirely forgotten about what had crossed his mind. He sat in his armchair, reading a book and sipping coffee. Travis came over and plopped on the couch, watching him. Wes put down his book. “…Do you miss your family?”

Travis laughed. “That’s a hard question to answer. Which family? I grew up in foster care.”

Wes was surprised, but only nodded thoughtfully.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

Travis smiled, though it was a tight, awkward smile. “For not making a big deal about it or telling me you’re sorry. But yeah, I do. I miss my brothers and sisters. And I miss my mamas. I don’t even know where a lot of them are anymore.”

Wes was silent.

“Do you-” Wes looked back up at him, waiting for him to continue. Travis had an odd look on his face “…Do you see your family at all?”

Wes was uncomfortable. He didn't want Travis to know how pathetic he was. He didn't want to hear the taunt he’s sure Travis would say to him.

“Yeah, I talk to my mom.”

“But you never see her? What about your dad?”

“No,” he answered, being intentionally curt. 

“Maybe a girlfriend?”

“No.” Wes was starting to get angry.

“What about siblings-”

“No! Okay? No. I never see my parents because they wanted me to be a lawyer. I don’t have any siblings. And my wife divorced me, she said, ‘I married a lawyer, not an officer.’ And I said, ‘I can’t be a lawyer. That’s not who I am anymore. Why can’t you understand that?!’”

He stood, throwing his book on the armchair and stomping off to his bedroom. He slammed the door behind him. He didn't want to hear what Travis had to say. He told himself he didn't care.


	7. Seven

Things were awkward and tense between them for the next week and a half. Wes yelled at him every time he left his clothes on the floor, every time he dropped a crumb, every time he put his feet on the coffee table. He was sure Wes was going to die of a heart attack sooner or later.

Travis had been dropped off to be interrogated again. Still generically nice. Still “we’re buddies, Travis. Now help us, please.” Like he’d fall for that. He just hoped that a month wasn't too long. That they wouldn't get desperate before then.

He tended to follow Wes around, watching him work. It drove Wes crazy, but Travis had nothing else to do. Wes was predictably organized, predictably right, predictably on time, predictably _perfect_.

They were headed down the hallway when Travis recognized a face. He stopped, stunned to silence. That’s when he noticed him.

“Travis? Travis Marks? What is happening, man?”

Wes turned around impatiently, his eyes darting between the two men. “Who is this?”

“What? You haven’t told your friend here about the double trouble? Marks and Kronish?” the man asked with a grin. Travis looked at Wes reluctantly. He was sure the bastard would rub this in his face later.

“Phil was my partner when I was a cop,” Travis explained. Wes looked astounded, his eyes lingering on Travis before snapping over to Phil.

“Hells yeah, I was! I didn’t realize you were an officer,” Phil said. Travis shook his head.

“I’m a prisoner. Wes is my… handler.”

The three men stood in silence for a few moments. Finally, Phil coughed a little.

“Tough luck, buddy,” Phil said. He saluted Wes and walked off. Wes had a sour look on his face. Travis didn’t care what the asshole had to say. He just wanted to get out of there. He turned around, running right into a woman.

“Oh, sorry…” That’s when Travis got a good look at her, noticed her long legs and breasts. “Sorry, ma’am.”

She laughed a little. “No need to call me ma’am. I’m just a nurse.”

“Oh, really? Well, I think I’m feeling a little hot,” he said. The woman furrowed her brows. “Wait… nope that’s you.”

She snickered. “Smooth. I’m Jamie.”

“Travis.”

“Well, Travis, maybe I’ll see you around,” Jamie said, walking away with a flirty wink. It was then that he noticed Wes was walking away. He wasn't sure why he ran after him.

“Wes-” Travis made a startled noise as he tripped.

“Stop that,” Wes snapped. Travis caught himself, snorting in disgust.

“Hey, asshole. I tripped. It was an accident, you freaky, anal, obsessive-”

Wes turned around quickly. Travis didn’t even have time to fight back before his back hit the wall. _Again_.

There was something intense in Wes’ eyes, something that should have scared him, but instead made him want to hug him. It dawned on Travis that maybe it was hurt and fear that shoved him up against that wall, not anger. After all, Travis seemed to be the only person that even spent ten minutes in Wes’ company. Travis responded the only way he knew how.

He punched Wes in the face.

His fist connected with his jaw. Wes let go of him, stumbling back a little. His lip had split open. Wes’ face was completely flushed. Travis couldn't understand what his expression meant, didn't want to understand. He just punched again and made contact with something. He punched a third time, but his fist met nothing but air. And suddenly, all the air was pushed out of him and he realized that Wes was fighting back. Wes was wild with anger. Travis could see that he’d broken the perfect man. Somehow, some way, he broke him. He took another punch to the stomach before strong arms were holding him back. Wes was being restrained by a couple officers.

“Who threw the first punch?!” a woman demanded. She was obviously Wes’ superior. Both men were silent.

“Who threw it?!” she barked. Wes was no longer fighting the restraint, no longer looking at Travis. His voice was quiet.

“I did.”

Travis tried not to fall over. Why was he doing this?

“Officers, escort Mr. Marks back to his room.”

He struggled to look back over his shoulder and managed to catch a glimpse of blonde hair. Wes didn't look back.

After a few hours, Travis found himself naked, a gorgeous female climbing on top of him.

And all he could think of was Wes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? GASP. 
> 
> UM /flails awkwardly SO I guess I need to change the rating of this fic? Because of… _things_ … that happen later. I hope this doesn't scare away any readers. I’ll tell you when to avoid the next chapter if sex isn't your thing. Just look at my notes.


	8. Eight

Wes’ stomach was so empty that he felt sick. And his face _hurt_. He was in isolation after a lengthy lecture from his superior. 

There was a knock. He stood up as a man opened the door and nodded. Wes started to walk past him.

“That was a warning, officer. Don’t let it happen again, or we’ll remove the prisoner from your care.”

Wes nodded slowly, then hurried off. He had to get back to the room, he had to-

The room was quiet. Wes peeked in Travis’ room. The bed didn't look slept in.

He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He winced at his reflection, lightly touching the large bruise around his eye. Ugly. Inside and out. He ate one of his breakfast bars and took a shower. He cleaned his quarters, organized his closet, wrote half of a letter to his mother. Nothing made his heart feel any lighter.

Wes did the only thing he could think of. He called Alex.

“Hello? Wes?” her voice answered, the sound of rustling and banging in the background.

“Yeah.”

“Wes, I’m kinda busy,” she said. Wes sighed.

“I wouldn't call if it wasn't important.”

There was a long pause, and then she echoed his sigh.

“You know I’m here for you, Wes.”

Wes played with one of his shiny gold buttons. “I don’t know what to do. There’s this… person.”

“And…?”

“And… they’re so frustrating! They don’t respect authority at all. They fight me all the time. I just want to wring their neck half of the time,” Wes said, standing up excitedly and pacing.

There was a small pause. “And the other half of the time?”

Wes hesitated. “…I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” she said immediately.

“No, I don’t. That’s why I called you,” he groaned.

She sighed. “Wes, you do know. You know and you’re scared. That’s why you called me. I’m really sorry, Wes, but Ben should be home any minute and it’s his birthday.”

“Oh. Right. Tell him ‘happy birthday’ for me.”

“I will. Bye, Wes,” she said softly, hanging up.

He stared at his cellphone for a few minutes, going over the conversation in his head. The lingering love had fizzled out and turned mostly into bitter feelings, bitter feelings that he smothered and hid because Alex was the best friend he had.

Travis walked in right then, freezing at the sight of Wes. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before. They were wrinkled and a mess. Wes didn't know when he stood or walked over to him. Every part of him ached to touch the other man, to kiss him until he was breathless. It was unprofessional, it was wrong, it was-

-good. So good. His lips were moving desperately against Travis’, his hands wanting to touch everything. He slid his hands along his arms, feeling the muscles, then moving down his chest, playing with the edge of his shirt. He wanted to touch more, feel more, breathe him in. Travis was kissing back hesitantly, his hands resting on Wes’ hips. Wes pushed himself closer and pulled at Travis shirt. Travis’ hands snapped up to grab Wes’ wrists. Wes tried to shake out of the grip, but Travis didn't let go.

“Wes. Do you really want this?”

“Come on,” Wes murmured, kissing him again to shut him up. Travis pulled away.

“Wes! Do you really want this?”

“Do you?!” he shouted back at him, pacing away from him. He turned around to look at him when he received no response. Travis looked like he was fighting himself.

“Wes… if you want a fling, fine. But if you want a commitment out of me…” He looked so desperate. “Why did you cover for me? Twice?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know! There’s just something about you. You’re a pain in the ass, an asshole, a man-child, a slob…” Wes paused, running a hand through his hair. “…and a good person. When you talked about your family, and I found out you were a cop. And you… you drive me crazy-”

He made a noise of surprise as Travis pressed his lips to Wes’. He felt that burn, a spark between them, and he was kissing back. Travis pulled away, resting his forehead against Wes’.

“What are we gonna do?”

Wes closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo they kissed! So excited.


	9. Nine

They barely talked for a few days. It was easier to ignore what was between them than actually face it. _Easier_ , but not _easy_. Now and then, Wes would send him a heated gaze, rake his eyes over Travis’ body, and Travis could barely breathe. And when he was alone, Travis couldn't help himself, couldn't stop imagining wrapping his fingers around Wes, swallowing him, being inside him. It usually left him with a mess and a lot of guilt.

Travis had never felt lonelier. Lonely days and lonely nights. Wes refused to talk to him, Kendall avoided him for her safety, and… Jamie. Jamie just seemed interested in hookups. And Travis felt too guilty for that. He felt committed to Wes somehow. 

He didn't know what it was about Wes that drew Travis to him. Complete opposites, clashing and fighting and tearing until they collide, and everything aligned and fit together perfectly. He felt different around Wes. The man had his back every time something went wrong. It was comforting, to be able to turn his back for once. He knew, despite the kiss, Wes was there. And Travis didn't know if he could be there for Wes. 

It was just barely turning light when Travis woke to a boom. He sat up in bed. He heard gun-fire. They were under attack.

Travis hurried out of his room, not even bothering to put on a shirt or shoes. Wes was running out of his room, tying his robe closed.

“Get to the shelter. NOW!” he screamed. Travis threw his arms up in frustration as Wes ran out of the room. He didn't even know where that was.

He opened the door. People were running in every direction, shouting things and running into each other. Travis pushed through the crowd. He watched to see which direction the most blue uniforms went and followed. He stopped in the doorway of a crowded room. He spotted Wes toward the front of the room. He had changed into a blue uniform and a hat. The blue was slightly faded. The buttons were dull. His face was hard, intense. It didn't look like Wes.

“-by a group of heavily armed rebels. Banks is in charge of the first unit, Dean- second, Mitchell- the third. We need-”

That’s when Travis realized Wes was holding on to a gun. That Wes was going to _fight_. Possibly against friends or one of his foster families. He pushed his way through the crowd. He had to stop him, couldn't let him do that.

“No! Stop! You can’t!” Travis shouted. A couple of officers restrained him. Wes’ eyes, sharp and cold, fell on Travis. He could see him grinding his teeth and then he was pushing Travis backwards, away from the strong arms and out the door, down the hall and around a corner. Travis finally pulled away.

“You can’t! You can’t go out there!” 

“Travis, we have to,” Wes replied evenly, “There’s nothing we can do. _They_ attacked _us_. We have to defend ourselves.”

“No.”

No. He didn't understand. Travis drew him close and kissed him hard. He hadn't been able to tell Wes was shaking until he touched him. He let the kiss linger on, put off having to pull away because he didn't want to, but Wes did pull away. 

“You can’t.”

His eyes weren't hard anymore. His expression was so dangerously fragile. Beautiful and sad. The furthest thing from a robot.

“I have to.”

Travis pulled him closer, pressed his forehead to Wes’ and breathed him in. 

“Don’t you dare die, or I’ll kill you.”

Wes let out a choked laugh, squeezed Travis’ hand, and he was gone. 

 

Travis found the shelter pretty easily. It was all cement, cold, but packed. Officers were barking out orders and making sure people were in sections. Travis was sitting in a corner with a man and a little girl. The man gave him a polite, grim smile.

“You got someone out there?”

Travis hesitated, then nodded. 

“We do, too,” the man said, holding the little girl to his chest, “Her mama’s out there fighting.”

Travis nodded. He let the silence stretch on. He didn't want to talk.

 

“The rebels have retreated!” an officer shouted after running in the shelter. Excited screams and relieved sighs were let out. Travis stood shakily, but the officer put his hands up in the air to say ‘stop.’

“Please wait here, or in your rooms. There will be an announcement tomorrow at noon in the auditorium.”

‘A list of the dead, you mean,’ Travis thought nervously. He left with the crowd. It thinned out eventually and Travis went immediately for the hospital. Two officers stopped him.

“I’m sorry, sir. You can’t go in there without sufficient identification.”

“I need to know if my handler’s in there,” Travis said. 

“It’s already packed in there. Go back to your room and wait until the announcement tomorrow.”

Travis walked back to his room angrily. He hadn't been able to see past them. He passed a dirty, but otherwise unharmed, soldier hugging another person. Why wasn't Wes walking down the hall? …Maybe he was in the room. He had to be.

Travis sprinted down the hall and threw the door open. He ran inside and checked Wes’ room.

No Wes.


	10. Ten

The minutes ticked on, then the hours. Travis tried to tell himself that he shouldn't care, that Wes was the enemy, that he didn't care about Wes. 

He woke up with a start when the door opened. It was dark except the light coming from the window and from the open door. Travis scrambled up from the couch. Wes was panting in the doorway, framed by the light from the hallway, dirty, and bloody.

Travis stumbled over to him. He put his hands on his shoulders awkwardly.

“Wes, I thought-”

“We have twenty minutes until the assembly, and I have to give a speech.”

Wes walked past him, undoing the buttons on his uniform. Travis followed him into the bathroom.

“What? What are you doing?”

“I have to look presentable, and then make up something... to tell people whose loved ones are dead.”

“ _What?_ No, they can’t make you-”

“They can,” he said, stripping off his shirt. Travis could see bruises starting to form.

“What about your injuries?”

“I’m fine. They ran tests. No internal injuries. Just some scrapes.”

Travis looked at the cuts on his face. He looked even worse with the black eye. Travis kissed him.

Wes smiled softly. “I need to get ready.”

Travis went and changed, tried to look presentable in the ten minutes it took Wes to shower. Wes was changed in five, and they were hurrying down the hall to the auditorium. The crowd was quiet, barely letting out a soft murmur. They were all scared. Wes accepted a list of the dead. Travis didn’t even ask, just walked up on the stage next to Wes. Wes approached the podium. The microphone squeaked a little when he adjusted it. He cleared his throat. The crowd was already completely silent.

Wes didn't say anything. He played with the edge of the paper, his mouth hanging open, trying to make a sound. Travis could see the trauma in Wes’ eyes, see his hands shaking. Travis pushed Wes gently to the side and moved the microphone a little higher. He saw a couple men heading toward the stage out of the corner of his eye.

“Officer Mitchell here lost his voice in the battle.”

There were some sympathetic hums. He could see the woman that had ordered Wes around before stop the men heading for the stage. They stopped, looking to the stage. Travis took a deep breath.

“My name is Travis Marks. I’m not an officer or a supporter of your New Age, but I am human. And I recognize heroes. And those people? They were heroes. Every single one of them.”

The people seemed to respect him, seemed hopeful at his words. They listened to the list of the fallen. It was the worst thing Travis had ever had to do. He folded the paper back up, looking back up at the crowd. Some looked relieved; the rest had had their worlds torn apart. He looked over at Wes. He needed to get the man out of there. He took Wes by the arm and led him away from the crowd, from the tears, from the death and destruction, and held him in his arms once they were in their room. He didn't say a thing, just held him while Wes soaked his shirt, his body shaking from the sobs.

Travis realized he could have just left Wes all alone on that stage, let him sink, watch him get destroyed, and wait for a month to be over and go on with his life. But for once, he had someone’s back. He wasn't running.

Wes leaned his head back up, pressing his lips to Travis’. Travis kissed him back for a moment before pulling away and wiping the tears off his cheeks. He could tell he embarrassed Wes by the intensely red flush on his face. Travis kissed him until the flush was from exertion. Wes pulled away, smiling a little, and led Travis to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter has sex in it. You can still understand the story if you skip it. Thanks and enjoy!


	11. Eleven

Travis threw his own shirt off. He was hungry for contact, hungry for skin. He wanted to see Wes naked, touch every part of him. Travis worked at the shiny gold buttons, about ready to just rip his shirt open. Wes went down his shirt and unbuttoned it quickly. Travis opened it and slipped it off Wes. He let his fingers glide over the pale skin. Wes’ breath hitched, and suddenly he was going for Travis’ pants. Travis brushed Wes’ hands away and pushed him on the bed. Wes let out a pained noise.

“Be gentle with me. Bruises.”

Wes sat up, looking confused when Travis didn't lie on top of him. Travis went to his knees. He could see Wes’ chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Wes, you okay?”

Wes nodded nervously. “Yeah.”

Travis got rid of the pants and felt Wes through the fabric of his boxers. Wes let out a breathy moan. Travis wanted to make him moan more, wanted to hear his name on Wes’ lips. He pulled down the boxers, stroking Wes to get him harder. Wes moaned louder and bucked into Travis’ hand. Travis let go and grinned at the frustrated growl he received.

“Patience, baby, patience.”

“Travis, I swear if you-”

Travis put his mouth around Wes’ cock and swallowed him down. The noises Wes was making had Travis unbearably hard. He took in as much of him as he could, blowing him slow and steady. Wes bucked again, unintentionally, Travis thought. Travis licked and Wes was panting. Travis came back up to kiss Wes and Wes met his lips eagerly, drunk with lust.

He was surprised when Wes spun them around so Wes was on top. He let out a chuckle, and Wes’ lips quirked into a smirk. Wes slipped Travis’ pants off slowly, teasing them both. By the time he got Travis’ boxers off, Travis was moaning and hard. Wes took a shaky breath, stroking Travis slowly, so slowly that Travis was about ready to beg.

“Wes…”

Wes looked up at him. He crawled off the bed and to his dresser, rifling through his drawers. Travis sat up and watched him with a raised brow.

“Man, what the hell are you doing?”

Wes came back and sat on the bed next to Travis, gently setting a tube of lubricant and a condom down. Travis grinned at him and kissed him. Wes pulled away.

“Travis, I…” Travis looked at his icy blue eyes. They weren't hard or desperate. Wes was scared and vulnerable. Travis hazarded a guess that he was the first person to be in this position since his divorce.

He ran his fingers along Wes’ abs and then lower and lower. He stopped and leaned over to kiss Wes. The light was casting shadows on his light skin in the darkened room, highlighting the sharpness to his jaw, the curves of his muscles.

“Beautiful,” Travis murmured, stroking his face with his other hand, “I wanna be in you.”

He could make out the bright red flush trailing from his face down to his neck and chest. 

“I… I thought…”

“Do you want-”

“No,” Wes interrupted him, “…No. It’s okay.”

Travis gently pushed him back against the bed, kissing him until Wes was breathless. He went down to Wes’ hole and lubricated it and his fingers thoroughly. Wes watched nervously.

“This is gonna be great,” Travis said, “It’ll be good.”

Wes nodded, and Travis eased a finger in. He tightened around him, his breathing speeding up. Travis let him get used to the feeling before moving inside him. He added a second, gave him a moment, then started moving again. Wes let out a strained noise and Travis stopped.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, no. Keep…” He took a shaky breath and laughed. “Keep going.”

Travis put in a third finger and soon Wes was pushing himself down on Travis’ fingers. Travis started stroking Wes at the same time and Wes was moaning in a way that made Travis’ cock ache. He slid his fingers out of Wes and let go of him, slipping the condom on and using the lube. He looked at Wes. The man’s eyes were half-lidded, and he was staring at him hungrily. Travis lined himself up to Wes’ hole before penetrating him. Wes let out a gasp and grabbed at the sheets. Travis let him get used to the feeling, and then went further in him.

Travis could have gone over the edge right then, looking at Wes splayed out on the bed, his blonde hair wet with sweat. Travis closed his eyes and took a breath. He wasn't going to cum before Wes. He slowly started to get a rhythm, going in and out, in and out achingly slow. He wanted to make wild, crazy love to him. But this was their first time. Something in his chest fluttered a little at that. He wanted it to be more romantic. He wanted to feel all of Wes all at once. He let his hands graze across Wes’ body. Wes arched up into the touch.

Wes leaned up to kiss him. Travis let Wes’ tongue explore his mouth, moaning and speeding up his pace. Travis pushed him back down so he was more comfortable, keeping their lips together and making love to him. He needed more, more, and he wanted it now. He sat back up and thrust into him harder and faster. He groped Wes’ tight ass before reaching up and stroking Wes to his rhythm. And then he hit that sweet spot and Wes was moaning his name and Travis came hard. He rode out his orgasm, stroking Wes until he came on his hand. Travis pulled out of him and threw the condom away. Wes was breathing hard, but he was already sitting up. Travis came back over and straddled him, kissing him softly.

“What is it?”

“God… Travis, that was…” Wes laughed. “That was fantastic.”

Travis grinned. “Of course it was.”

“I just… need to clean up a little.”

“You’re gonna shower _now_?”

Wes shook his head and settled it on Travis’ shoulder. Travis took that opportunity to run his fingers through Wes’ hair.

“I just wanna clean up a little bit.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Travis said, slipping off his lap and sliding into Wes’ bed. Wes disappeared into the bathroom. Which gave Travis time to think, time to _panic_. He pulled the covers over himself. What was he thinking? He hadn't been in a long-term relationship in years. He couldn't get Wes’ hopes up. And it was just a disaster waiting to happen to be sleeping with the enemy. He didn't want to hurt the man, or get him killed.

Wes came out after a few minutes in all his naked glory. He hesitated, reaching down to pick up his boxers.

“Wes,” Travis called softly. Wes looked up. Travis just patted the bed next to him. Wes seemed to understand and abandoned the boxers, crawling under the covers next to him. Travis was beginning to get fond of that blush that liked to creep down from Wes’ face. It was endearing. Like his dimples. Travis reached out to touch a dimple and Wes let out a chuckle. Travis smiled back at him, and Wes pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him.

“See you in the morning?”

“See you in the morning, Wes,” he replied, kissing him.


	12. Twelve

Wes opened his eyes, staring sleepily at a dark head of hair. He pulled his head back to look. It was Travis. It really happened. It wasn't a dream. He had Travis naked in his bed.

… _He had Travis naked in his bed_.

What the hell was he going to do? Wes didn't want to leave the New Age group, and he guessed that Travis didn't want to give up on the rebels after hearing about his interrogations. This was a mess.

And yet, Wes had never felt more alive. He smiled at Travis’ sleeping, drooling figure. He reached out and ran his fingers through Travis’ hair. Travis groaned and opened his eyes a little.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Wes said. He kissed the other man’s cheek and Travis gave him a lazy smile.

“Do we have to get up?”

Wes still had an arm around him. He could feel the warmth coming off Travis’ body.

“I do have a job to do,” he replied softly. Travis made a face.

“Call in sick.”

Wes laughed. “What is this? High school?”

Travis’ smile softened, turned affectionate, and he reached out to stroke Wes’ face. Wes leaned into the touch. It was nice to pretend. Travis was a smart man. He had to know this couldn't last. But in the meantime, Wes was content to pretend they were a couple. Just for this moment.

He scooted up to him until they were close, their lips almost touching. Travis closed the distance, his hands grazing down Wes’ back. It was like fireworks when they kissed and touched. Wes figured it was just related to the newness of the relationship and because he hadn't had sex in a while. Travis really could be gentle and sweet. It made his heart leap in his chest when Travis ran his fingers through Wes’ hair.

“When do you have to go to work?”

Wes glanced at the clock. “In an hour and a half.”

Travis held him tight to his body almost protectively. He really was a big cuddly teddy bear. 

“Then we can stay in bed a little longer.”

Wes laughed. “Okay, one more minute and then I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”

Travis looked at him skeptically. 

“You’re gonna give me a breakfast bar?”

“No, I’m going to borrow some ingredients from my neighbor and make an actual breakfast. Your minute’s up,” Wes said as he peeled himself from Travis. Wes could feel Travis’ eyes on him as he pulled on some clean boxers, a pair of pajama pants, and a t-shirt. He hurried to his neighbor’s and knocked. She didn't even think anything of it, just let Wes have the ingredients he needed as long as he promised to pay her back.

When Wes came back into the room, he could hear the shower going. He quickly got to cooking. Wes enjoyed cooking, and he was good at it. He was humming a song when he felt arms around his waist. He tensed up out of habit.

“Just me. Sorry.”

It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that someone wanted him and cared about him, but bitter at the same time, knowing that it would end soon. Travis nuzzled his neck and he let out a shaky breath before laughing nervously.

“Hey, idiot. Don’t distract the cook unless you want to set the room on fire.”

“Maybe I do,” Travis teased. But to Wes, it’s just another reminder of their impending breakup. Travis sat at his small table, watching Wes cook. Wes put the food on plates and went over to sit with him.

“Jesus, Wes. You sure do know the way to a man’s heart,” Travis said with a grin, digging in. Wes smiled and ate with him, although Wes was a little neater than Travis.

“This is really good, man. You should be a chef or something,” Travis said with his mouth full.

“Thanks.”

Travis looked back up at him. “What’s eating you?”

Wes gave him a look that said ‘are you serious?’. Travis raised his eyebrows, shaking his head in confusion.

“You don’t really think this-” Wes waved a hand between them. “-can last, do you?”

Travis turned somber. He put his fork down and swallowed his mouthful of food.

“Wes, I need to show you things. I didn't care before, but now I want you to know. Maybe it might change things.”

Wes stared at him. “’Know?’ What the hell are you talking about?”

“Wes, your New Age group is-” 

Wes let out a groan.

“Listen to me!” Travis snapped. Wes fell silent. “You’re an officer. You have access to computers here. Today, look up the government’s budget. Look at the names of the organizations, look up the organizations, then keep digging, keep following the trail.”

 

Wes ignored his duties that day, skipped lunch, and missed dinner. He should have delivered Travis to the interrogation room, but he was so engrossed in his research that he forgot. It was so buried that he never would have discovered it. He never thought to look. They were funneling money to anti-gay groups, and also right into the pockets of the leaders. No wonder the facility’s training grounds were never updated, or the weapons enhanced. There wasn't any money left to do it. He quickly got out of everything on the computer and got out of there, hurried down the halls. 

Travis was asleep when he got to the room. He glanced at the clock. It was midnight. He’d spent all day doing that. Wes shook him awake. Travis stared up at him groggily.

“Huh…? Wes? What time is it?”

“They’re… they lied. It’s not a new age of peace that they want. They’re…”

Travis sat up immediately, nodding. “I’m sorry, Wes. If they knew you saw that, they’d kill you. Were you careful?”

Wes nodded. He felt sick to his stomach, so he sat on the ground. Travis sat down next to him.

“We have to… tell people. People have to know!”

“I know, but we have to be careful.”

They sat in silence for a while, letting the information sink in. And when it finally had, Wes wasn't just sick. He was _angry_. He slammed his fist into Travis’ bed.

“I trusted them! I trusted them!”

Travis tried to calm him down but Wes pulled away from him. 

“No, do you know why I joined them? Anthony Padua! I took this case for him and… I have blood on my hands! I sent an innocent person to jail! I wanted the justice they promised! And they fucked me over!” 

Wes deflated once that was finally out, and let Travis wrap his arms around him. He didn't cry. He couldn't. He was too angry. He was shaking with rage.

“Wes, you've been so blinded by your guilt, so trapped because of it. I don’t know the details- I don’t even need to to know that you’re blaming yourself for something you shouldn't.”

“He killed himself. Because of me.”

“No,” Travis said, shushing him, “I don’t believe that. Wes, you care so much about people, when you couldn't tell people who was dead, the way you gave me second chances. And you want your family to approve of you, to love you. You’re one of the most compassionate people I've ever known.”

Wes looked at him. He seemed to genuinely mean what he said.

“Even though you act like a douchebag,” Travis added. Wes laughed a little, and Travis smiled that cheeky smile of his. Wes shook his head.

“I can’t work anymore. I’ll have to resign.”

Travis met his eyes nervously. “Come with me.”

“…Where? How? What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to escape in about two weeks. I have someone on the inside,” Travis explained, taking Wes’ hand, “Come with me and fight this.”

“Yes,” Wes answered immediately, his heart beating fast in his chest, “I will.”

“Wes. First, I should say I haven’t been in a long-term relationship in long time. And I…” Wes could tell Travis was trying to smother his panic. “I always leave before the other person can. So it doesn't hurt as much. I can’t promise this is gonna work out.”

“There never is that promise. I know. Even when you think everything’s perfect. But… I want to be with you, so stop that and kiss me, you idiot,” Wes snapped. Travis chuckled, cupping Wes’ face with a hand and leaning close to his face.

“Yes, sir,” he murmured and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this fic not knowing why the New Age group was so awful. Here's to flying by the seat of my pants! Woo! Also just skimmed over the Anthony Padua thing as best as I could since canon never gave us many details :(


	13. Thirteen

The third week passed rather quickly. They worked Wes hard, which left him, much to Travis’ dismay, pretty tired at the end of the day. The interrogations were getting more and more intense, and Travis started actually dreading going to that room. Wes was slowly buying food and supplies for their trip.

“Are you sure she’ll talk around me?” Wes asked, looking around to make sure the coast was clear.

“Yeah, man. Once I explain,” Travis replied. He opened the door to Kendall’s office and they hurried in. Kendall spun around. She hid her surprise well.

“Officer Mitchell, nice to see you,” She glanced at Travis with a slightly sour look. “Marks.”

“Hey. Kendall, it’s okay. He knows I’m going to escape. He’s going with me.”

Kendall narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“We’re dating,” Travis said with a grin, “ Aren't we, boo?” Travis trailed a finger along Wes’ cheek and Wes moved his head away automatically, giving him a foul look.

“Don’t… call me that.”

Kendall watched them skeptically. “You two are really dating?”

Travis leaned up in Wes’ space, forcing his back to the wall and putting his hands on either side of his head. Wes felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. Travis was so tantalizingly close, and yet so far. He breathed him in before eagerly pressing his lips against Travis’. Travis stepped away a few moments later, looking like he wanted applause. Wes grinded his teeth together. 

“Wow. Okay, I believe you. Does he know about the New Age?” Kendall said. She turned and started typing at her computer.

“Yes. I do now,” Wes said, walking over so he was looking over one shoulder and Travis was looking over her other.

“Okay, here’s a map of the building. There is gonna be a lot of people and a lot of confusion. You two are just going to have to act normal. The villain of our story is arriving at exactly 4 pm. You two will go through the halls with a dining cart.”

“Dining cart?” Travis asked. Kendall gave him an annoyed look.

“To hide your bags, of course. You’ll travel through the halls during all of the confusion. You should make it to the door at around 4:05 pm. Due to the crowds, security is going to be more spread out, meaning-”

“Less security, less of a fight at the entrance,” Travis interrupted. She shot him another look.

“How many does that leave us with?”

“I’m glad you asked, Wes,” she replied sweetly, typing at her computer, “It looks like only Wayne and McDougall. I’ll give you two minutes to knock them out, and then you have a two minute window when the power is going to mysteriously turn off.”

“I can’t swing any more of that drug. We’ll have to fight them,” Wes said grimly.

“Kendall, we need more time.”

“That’s all the time I can get you. Sorry.”

 

The two snuck out of the office and walked down the hallway, heading back for their room. 

“Hey, uh… I wanna show you something,” Wes said shyly. Travis gave him a curious glance.

“What?”

“Not now. Tonight. Midnight.”

“And interrupt your beauty sleep, babe?” Travis teased, pinching his cheek. Wes slapped his hand away.

“I think I’ll be fine. Just take a nap before.”

 

Wes woke him up at midnight. He didn't tell him anything, just walked down the hallways, his footsteps echoing. 

“Man, where the hell are we going?” Travis finally asked. Wes stopped and opened a door. Travis walked in, gaping at his surroundings. Wes came in after him, turning on the lights and fixing the door so nobody could come in. Travis stiffened a little. He didn't like to be trapped. Wes noticed the panic and went over to him.

“Relax. It’s so nobody can come in and disturb us. I wanted to show you the garden.”

Travis glanced around again. The garden was inside, vibrant and lovely. Vines crawled up every surface, and flowers bloomed all over the floor. Wes took him by the hand and led him around the garden, pointing out the various kinds of plants and telling him about them. Travis didn't listen to all of it. He was busy noticing the shine in Wes’ eyes, the joy in his voice, the smile on his lips. 

“And I planted those and they-”

“Whoa, whoa. You did all this?” Travis asked.

“Well, not all of it. But I did a lot it, yeah,” he replied bashfully. Travis squeezed his hand.

“It’s beautiful, baby.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling softly, “Oh! Wait!”

Wes went over and turned the big lights off, and soft, glowing lights turned on. He slipped his hand back in Travis’ and led him over to a small water feature. They sat on a bench nearby.

“Are you trying to sweep me off my feet?” he asked with a grin.

Wes leaned in, his face hovering around Travis’.

“Maybe.”

Travis pressed their lips together. “It’s working,” he breathed, kissing him harder. They were usually heat and passion and pulling and tearing, but the kiss was softer and sweeter.  
They pulled away, pressing their foreheads together, their noses touching.

“I guess we’re running away together,” Travis said.

Wes rolled his eyes and smiled. “I guess we are.”

“…That’s kinda romantic.”

“Didn’t realize you were the romantic type,” Wes teased. Travis stroked his cheek.

“Neither did I.”

Wes leaned his head on Travis’ shoulder. They sat there together, chatting quietly, making fun of each other, and enjoying each other’s company for a couple hours. Travis didn't feel quite so lonely anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh the big escape is coming up next!!


	14. Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING** There is self-mutilation in this chapter. 
> 
> I don't claim to know anything about injuries, so I'm just writing it as best as I can.
> 
> I'm going to try to keep my updating every day thing going, but I might miss some days every now and then. Just be patient with me. I'm gonna see this story through to the end. I'm determined.

Wes woke up, reaching out for Travis. His hand met only air. He looked around in confusion. He didn't hear the shower going. Slipping out of bed, he made his way through the room until he found Travis in the living room, his head in his hands and two trays of food on the coffee table in front of him.

“Travis?” he called softly. Travis looked up and immediately replaced his worried frown with a fake smile. He was usually talented at masking his emotions. Wes was getting better at reading him. But he was off today.

“Morning, sunshine. I got us some breakfast.”

Wes scowled at the nickname and sat on the couch beside him, digging into one of the trays.

“Thanks.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Wes spoke up again.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Keep your penny. You’ll be much happier that way,” Travis replied. Wes put his biscuit down and put a gentle hand on his arm.

“You can tell me.”

“I wish we would have had sex last night. Just in case.”

It was finally the day. The day they were going to escape. The air between them had grown heavier throughout the week. Fights were getting more intense, and they hadn't slept together since their first time. Wes had allowed him in his bed last night, but he had wanted his energy for the next day.

“Travis, we’re not going to die.”

“If they catch us, we will. Eventually. After they’re done torturing us. Or what if we get mugged and killed on the way? Or what if the rebellion thinks we’re spies and _they_ torture and kill us?”

Wes shut him up with a kiss. “ I've got your back, and you've got mine. Whatever happens, I will fight until we’re together.”

“Yeah.”

Wes went back to eating his breakfast.

“But I think we should have sex still. Maybe a few times even,” Travis joked. Wes whacked him on the arm.

 

Wes went about his duties as usual, while Travis managed to procure a dining cart. He hid it in their room and placed their packed backpacks inside. He had everything they needed. Now he just had to wait.

The door opened, and Wes walked in, looking bone tired. He sat on the couch beside Travis. Travis threw his arm around him. 

“I’m exhausted.”

Travis rubbed his shoulders a little. “Gotta last a little longer, baby.”

“A lot longer,” Wes corrected him, “We need to get away from here as fast as possible.”

“We don’t have much time. If you have anything left to do, you better do it.”

Wes put his head on Travis’ shoulder. “I’m ready.”

 

“Man, why are we going early? Kendall said-”

“Travis, if we don’t leave ourselves a cushion, we’ll be late,” Wes snapped, pushing the cart down the hall way. Travis walked close to him. Their arms brushed together and Travis had the temptation to shove Wes in a closet, knock him out, and run for it by himself. 

“Wes…”

Wes stopped, looking at him with those blue eyes and all thoughts of going without him were gone.

“Nothing. Let’s just do this.”

Wes nodded. An officer called out to Wes and came running down the hall. Travis panicked, wondering if they were going to stop them, but he just asked for a signature on a document. Travis tapped his fingers nervously on the dining cart. A racket down the hall annoyed him. He tried to tune it out until he realized what the racket was all about. It was the leader of the New Age. He was there.

Travis turned, looked the man in the face. He wasn't that far. Travis snuck one of the guns out from the cart. Wes wasn't paying attention. Travis cocked the gun. He was a good shot. He could make this shot, end his own suffering, prevent all the horrible things that this man was trying to make happen. 

He raised the gun.

Wes was in front of him in an instant. Travis clenched his jaw.

“Move.”

“No.”

“Move, Wes!”

Wes moved forward until his chest was against the barrel. 

“Either shoot me and then shoot him, or stand down.”

Travis tightened his grip on the gun, locking eyes with Wes, willing him to move. Finally, he let his arm drop to his side. Wes took the gun and stored it back in the cart. 

“…Wes, I-”

“No time. We have to go if we want to make that two minute window.”

Travis followed him around a corner, losing sight of the leader, watching his opportunity fly out of his hands. He glared at Wes’ back.

They ended up running to the entrance. The two guards were standing in front of it. They watched them approach warily, eyeing Travis nervously.

“What’s the rush, Mitchell?”

“You two are needed for the celebration. There’s been an accident. I can watch the door,” Wes said breathlessly. 

“There hasn't been anything over the radio,” the female officer said with a frown, “I think you need to get back to your duties. And what’s with the dining cart?”

“It’s really special. Look,” Travis said, pointing at a tray on top of it. She looked closer, and he slammed the tray into her face. She stumbled back. He took his opportunity and slammed her head into the door, knocking her out. He turned to see Wes punch the other officer right in his face, then kick him hard. The man fell to the ground, and Wes slammed his head into the ground.

“I hope they’re okay,” Wes mumbled. Travis rolled his eyes, trying the door. To his relief, it opened. He and Wes took their packs and ran out the door and outside. They didn't stop or talk, just ran along the highway until they couldn't breathe. 

“Let’s stop,” Wes wheezed. They stopped and sat on the ground behind some large rocks. They took out their canteens, but Wes whacked Travis after a few seconds.

“Conserve. We don’t know when we’re going to get to refill them.”

Travis made a sour face, but didn't say anything. Wes started stripping, and Travis watched in confusion.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“People are gonna ask why an officer is hitchhiking,” Wes said, down to his boxers. Travis’ eyes grazed his body a little longer than they should have. The adrenaline was pumping when he grabbed Wes and kissed him hard. Wes kissed him back before pulling away, his face flushed.

“There’s no time.”

He slipped on a long shirt and jeans and took out some things, a knife, a needle, some liquid…

“What are those for?”

Wes looked at him as if he were crazy. “You didn't… Of course you had to have thought about this.”

“About _what_?”

Wes touched his arm, right where the tracker was. Travis felt his stomach churn.

“We have to…?”

“They’ll be able to find us if we don’t,” Wes replied, chewing on his lip nervously. He cleaned Travis’ arm before sticking him with a needle. After a few minutes, his arm was comfortably numb. 

“Do you… do you want me to do it?” Wes asked. Travis nodded, looking away.

“I can’t do it,” Travis told him. He could feel something dig in his arm. It wasn't enough medication. He could feel a small twinge of pain and it was enough to make him vomit. It felt like it was only a second when he heard Wes’ voice.

“I’ve got it. Don’t look at your arm yet. I need to clean it.”

Travis watched the tracker bounce across the ground and land a few feet away before vomiting again. He could feel Wes doing something on his arm, but he couldn't tell what exactly. Didn't care.

“Okay. It’s okay, Travis.”

Travis looked over then. He arm was bandaged up decently. Wes had the knife hovering over his own arm.

“Where’s your needle?” he asked. Wes gave no response, just stared down at his arm. “Wes? Where’s yours?!”

Wes dug the knife in his arm and Travis was looking away and gagging.

“Wes, stop!” 

“I can’t! There was only one dose worth,” he growled. Travis wanted to be there for Wes, but the sounds were horrible. Wes’ small whimpers, the slide and squishing when blood and flesh met knife.

Finally the noises died down, and Travis looked up. Wes was panting, his gloved hands covered in blood and his arm bandaged. He grabbed him by the shirt.

“Why the hell did you use the medicine on me? Why wouldn't you use it on yourself, or split the medicine, you fucking idiot?!”

Wes swallowed a few times, catching his breath.

“Only had one needle. Not sharing needles.”

“Well, you used the same knife-”

“No,” Wes breathed, pointing to two different knives on the ground. Travis growled in frustration.

“You should have warned me! You should have told me!”

Wes closed his eyes. “Need to keep moving.”

“Wes,” Travis said softly. Wes opened his eyes. “You’re shaking.”

Wes laughed softly, wincing. “I’m not gonna lie, it hurts pretty badly.”

Travis took one look at his pale face and knew they wouldn't be able to walk far. He gently pushed the sleeve down on Wes’ arm and kissed his cheek.

“Come on. We’re gonna catch a ride.”


	15. Fifteen

Travis held his thumb up again, and yet another vehicle passed him by. He cursed, dropping his numbed arm. The arm was firmly around Wes’ waist. Wes tried to pull away.

“People may not stop if they think we’re gay,” Wes murmured. Travis scowled and raised his thumb up again as a car approached. 

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, but that’s just something we have to deal with.”

“We shouldn't have to,” Travis growled as the car passed them.

“I know we shouldn't have to.”

Travis hesitated, then let Wes stand on his own. He raised his thumb, and a van slowed down. Wes could see the rage on his face, the hurt at being discriminated against.

“Travis, calm down and let me talk,” he whispered. 

“No.”

“Travis!” he hissed, “…Fine. Rock, paper, scissors.”

It was ridiculous, but it was the only fair way he could think of quickly. They walked toward the car, subtly playing three rounds. Wes won the final round and walked in front of him with a smile. 

“Hello, there. You folks looking for a ride?” an elderly man asked.

“Yes. Yes, we’re looking to go west,” Wes said cheerfully.

The woman driving, his wife he thought, nodded. “We’re heading west. We can take you as far as Greenville.”

Wes tried to control himself, but the pain was getting to be terrible. He winced, and the man caught the expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just have a headache from listening to this jerk talk about sports all day,” Wes said, climbing in the back. Travis followed him in, and the couple laughed.

“Well, …what's your name?”

“Tr-” Travis coughed to cover up his mistake, “Excuse me. Trent. Trent Jordan.”

“Well, Mr. Jordan, you’ll have to discuss sports with Mrs. Martinez here. She’s the expert. What about you, son?”

“Jeremy Green.”

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Dr. Martinez and this is my wife,” the elderly man said, smiling. He turned back around, and Wes ignored Travis’ eyes on him. He knew Travis was trying to figure out how much pain he was in, if they should ask the doctor for help. But then there would be questions and talk of the hospital. No, they couldn't trust them.

Travis started talking to Mrs. Martinez about various sports teams. Wes was grateful that Travis had their attention. Wes wanted to be alone with himself in his head. After about half an hour, Wes felt eyes on him. He looked up at Dr. Martinez. His eyes were going between the two men and down… at Travis’ arm. Wes panicked. Travis had pushed his sleeves up like he always did with long-sleeved shirts.

“What happened to your arm, Mr. Jordan?”

Travis stopped speaking, panic evident on his face. Dr. Martinez grabbed his arm and took off the bandages.

“It was an accident,” Wes managed to get out. But the gouged hole spoke for itself.

“Your arm,” Dr. Martinez demanded, looking at Wes.

“Sir, it’s just-”

“Give me your arm, or I’ll call the cops.”

Wes held out his arm. It was sore when he touched it, and he made a pained noise. Dr. Martinez sat back in his seat and looked over at his wife grimly.

“These are either escaped prisoners or runaway officers.”

Mrs. Martinez nodded. “I hope you two got out okay. Other than what you had to do to your arms. You poor things.”

Wes and Travis looked at each other, astonished. Mrs. Martinez pulled over and pulled her sleeve down, showing them a scar in the exact same place.  
“I know what you’re going through. Life has been hard for us, but I’m not a high priority escapee, so they don’t search for me as much anymore. I wish we could take you farther than Greenville, but it’d be suspicious. Tony, get your medical bag and treat them.”

Tony got his medical bag from the trunk and opened the side door. He took Travis’ arm, cleaning it and bandaging it properly, then doing the same with Wes’. He gave Wes some pain medication and saved some for Travis to take later.

After a few hours, they made a pit stop so the elderly couple could go to the bathroom. Wes and Travis waited when they were done, leaning against the car. Travis slipped his arm around Wes’ waist and Wes jumped away like he’d been shocked. The hurt look on Travis’ face made his stomach knot in guilt.

“We don’t know what kind of people they are,” Wes murmured. He gave him an apologetic smile. Travis huffed, crossing his arms.

“That’s bullshit. We deserve victory sex after all we've been through.”

“Just don’t do it in our car.”

They both whirled around to see Mrs. Martinez at the other side of the car, smirking. 

“Will you two kiss already? I know you've been dying to.”

Dr. Martinez walked up, looking confused. “Wait, you’re a couple?”

“Honestly, Tony,” Mrs. Martinez groaned. Travis hopped into the back seat with Wes and kissed him eagerly. 

“Come on. Give him a real lover’s kiss,” Mrs. Martinez challenged Travis, and Dr. Martinez groaned, shaking his head. Travis pressed his lips to Wes’. Wes made a startled noise and turned red. He didn't really want to display his affection for everyone to see, but then Travis’ tongue was in his mouth and he forgot all protest.

After a few seconds, Dr. Martinez smacked Travis on the leg. Travis jumped, their teeth clashing together painfully.

“That’s enough,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, Tony. They’re in love. You can’t blame them,” Mrs. Martinez said, giving her husband a kiss, then driving off.

Wes glanced over at Travis, but the man wouldn't meet his eyes.


	16. Sixteen

Wes set his bag on the bed and glanced over at Travis. He’d been sitting by the window ever since they got their hotel room. Mrs. Martinez had wanted to stop, and Wes and Travis were glad for the break. Travis had barely spoken to Wes. He hadn't touched him or made eye contact.

“I’m unpacking,” Wes announced.

“Nobody unpacks their things in a hotel room,” Travis said, scoffing.

“Well, I do.”

Travis glared at him.

“That’s stupid. We’re just going to have to pack everything tomorrow.”

“Well, maybe I like to settle in,” Wes snapped. 

“Well, maybe you’re an idiot!”

“You know what I gave up to be with you?!” Wes shouted back. Travis had stood by then.

“I didn't ask for that!” Travis cried.

“Yes, you did! You asked me to run away with you!”

Travis clenched his jaw. “I didn't want… You’re just so…”

That was it then. The problem was Wes. Wes felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He sunk down onto the bed. He looked up, but Travis was already gone.

 

Travis was in the courtyard, walking around. He hated it. There were flowers everywhere and flowers reminded him of Wes and thinking about Wes drove him crazy. He slumped onto a bench and punched the seat beside him. He heard some rustles of movement and looked up to see Mrs. Martinez. He gave her a half-hearted smile.  
“Trouble in the love department?” she asked, sitting down next to him. He shook his head.

“We’re not in love. _I’m_ not in love with him,” he said quietly. 

“Well, why the hell not?”

He looked up at her, shocked. “What?”

“That’s prime real-estate, buddy,” she said seriously. After a few seconds, she laughed and patted him on the back.

“I’m kidding you, Trent.”

“It’s Travis,” he said with a laugh.

“Travis. I don’t know why the word ‘love’ scared you so much, but it’s okay. You don’t need to declare your love right this second. But you do need to apologize to that gorgeous young man for taking it out on him.”

“How did you…?”

“The walls are thin,” she said, “Remember that tonight, please.”

Travis shook his head. “But why did he look so pathetic at the end? I mean, we were both throwing words around. I just said something like ‘You’re just so…’ and trailed off.”

“Oh, honey,” she groaned, “He thinks he did something.”

“Well, he did.”

Mrs. Martinez smacked him on the leg. “And just what did he do?”

“He said the L word too fast.”

“ _I_ said that!”

“But he didn't disagree!” Travis cried. She gave him an exasperated look.

“You two need to talk it out.”

“That’s kind of it. We never talk anything out.”

“Let me guess,” she said with a sigh, “You let it fester until one of you explodes. Go talk to him. Go.”

Travis smiled a little, giving her a kiss on the cheek and going to find Wes.

 

Travis went to their hotel room, opening the door a crack. He could see Wes with his back to the door. He was staring down at something. Travis walked over to him quietly. It was a newspaper article that had been cut out. He winced when he saw the name ‘Anthony Padua.’ Wes turned and jumped, stuffing the article in his pocket and getting up to pace away from him.

“Goddamnit, Travis! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Wes.”

“You should have knocked or something-”

“Wes!”

“What?” he snapped. Travis walked toward him. Wes didn't back down, standing still.

“It kind of… weirded me out when she was talking about love,” Travis admitted. 

“‘Weirded?’” 

Travis made a face, looking away. “Okay, it scared me.”

Wes studied his face for a moment before nodding.

“I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know if I love you. But I do know I care about you a lot.”

“I care about you, too. Even though you’re an asshole.”

Wes smirked. “Better than being irresponsible.”

“Uptight.”

“Lazy.”

“A hard-ass.”

“Sloppy.”

“Boring.”

“Stupid.”

Travis tackled him onto the bed, and they laughed together. 

“Stupid? That’s the best you could do?” Travis said, kissing him.

“Shut up,” Wes chuckled. He fingered Travis’ collar. “Did you want to…?”

It was tempting. He could have one last night with Wes and then head out in the middle of the night. Maybe he’d save them both heartache. Travis smiled a little and took his hand away from his collar. 

“Let’s just hang out tonight.”


	17. Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute, fluffy, crack-tastic chapter. IDEK

Wes knew he was doomed after all the coffee, soda, and dessert they had consumed. It was nice to be spending his money on something fun, and he and Travis were having _fun_.

Wes was wearing his sunglasses, no shirt, a tie, and boxers. He sucked on the end of a licorice, pretending to smoke it. 

“WHO are YOU?” 

Travis giggled. He looked just as insane as Wes, a tie around his head, and wearing nothing but a suit jacket and his own boxers.

“No way am I being Alice in Wonderland.”

“You got that reference?” Wes asked with a grin, nibbling at the stub of licorice he was holding.

“Yeah. I read it,” Travis said. He smirked, eating at the other end until their lips met. Wes let the kiss turn filthy, tasting the sweetness in his mouth.

Wes pulled away and grabbed a licorice, balancing on his puffed out lips to make a licorice mustache. Travis burst out laughing. Wes grinned and grabbed the licorice off his face. Travis pushed the sunglasses off Wes’ face and on his head.

“What was that for?”

“I like your eyes. I wanna see them,” he said, taking a swig of soda. Wes leaned in closer to him and Travis choked on his drink. “Not that close!”

“We've been that close before.”

“Yeah, but usually when we’re that close, you’re going ‘Travis! Oh God, yes!’”

Wes turned bright red and laughed, punching Travis in the arm. “Will you shut up?! I do not! And we've only been together once!” 

“We should rectify that problem,” Travis said with a suggestive eyebrow raise. 

“You told me you wanted to hang out with me!”

“I didn't mean we had to rectify the problem _now_.”

“It sure looked like you did.”

Travis shut him up with a kiss, grabbing his sunglasses and throwing them across the room. Wes broke the kiss and puffed out his lips in a frown.

“Those were nice sunglasses.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Travis said. He pushed his back against the bed and lay next to him. “Truth or dare?”

Wes gave him a look like he’d lost his mind. “What are we? Teenage girls?”

“You’re so uptight all the time. Do something crazy for once.”

Wes stared at him, trying to make his mind up. Finally, he rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Dare.”

Travis got a wicked look on his face.

“Nothing that will get us kicked out. Or involve me being naked in public.”

Travis’ face fell into an over-exaggerated frown. “That’s no fun, baby.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Travis leaned over Wes, and Wes was tempted to touch the bare skin where the suit jacket rose up. He left a sack of marshmallows on Wes’ stomach and smiled.

“Chubby Bunny.”

“Huh?”

“Man, you never played Chubby Bunny when you were younger?”

Wes shook his head. Travis sighed.

“I’m really starting to question if you had a childhood at all. You put a marshmallow in your mouth, then say ‘Chubby Bunny.’ You keep this up until you can’t anymore.”

“Easy enough,” Wes murmured, opening the sack and putting a marshmallow in his mouth. “Chubby Bunny.”

Travis watched him go on with an amused expression until Wes’ cheeks were absolutely stuffed. Wes was laughing so hard that he spit most of the marshmallows out. Travis laughed with him.

“That’s nasty, baby.”

Wes got up and cleaned the mess off the bed. “But it was a valiant try, right?”

Travis smiled at him. “Yeah, Wes. You got about five in your mouth.”

“I held a lot more in there!”

“I just don’t think that sweet little mouth can hold very much.”

“My mouth can handle anything in it-” Wes stopped, frowning at Travis dying of laughter on the bed. He whacked him a few times. “You tricked me into saying that!”

Travis pulled him onto the bed, kissing his forehead. “You got me.”

Wes just huffed in irritation and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Travis pried his arms loose and got them around him, and it wasn't long before he had Wes laughing and smiling again.


	18. Eighteen

Travis woke up at a knock at the door. He looked down at Wes beneath him, still half-naked and snoring lightly. He smiled a little and grabbed some pants. He opened the door to Mrs. Martinez. She peeked around him at the dirty hotel room and sacked out Wes and laughed.

“Crazy night?”

Travis smirked. “You could say that.”

“We thought we’d leave in an hour, if you boys can manage that,” she said. He nodded and closed the door after she left. He crawled onto the bed and back on top of Wes, kissing the man’s neck.

“Time to wake up, cranky-pants,” he whispered. Wes opened his eyes and puffed out his lips.

“I’m not cranky.”

“You always are in the morning. Unless you just had sex the night before or unless someone gets you your coffee fast,” he said with a laugh, kissing his puffed-out lips. He was enjoying the pink flush he caused on Wes’ face.

“Oh, shut up.”

Travis rolled off of him and helped him up, slapping his ass. “Well, Dr. and Mrs. M want to leave in an hour, so get that sexy ass in the shower.”

Wes looked like he was going to punch Travis, but he just rolled his eyes and went off into the bathroom. Travis worked on getting their trash in the trashcan- a task he was sure Wes would never think he would do. It was nice, hearing the shower going, being so intimate with someone. It was something Travis had never really had. Of course, he was still panicking over it. But there was just something about Wes. Something special.

He jumped at a pounding knock on the door. He frowned, walking over and looking through the peephole. It was Mrs. Martinez again, looking panicked. He opened the door immediately.

“Travis, Tony was checking out and he overheard an officer talking to the front desk. He was asking about you two. You’ve got to pack and meet us by the car in five minutes.”  
Travis watched her run back to her room. Travis shut the door and went into the bathroom. Wes automatically put his hands in front of himself, glaring at him through the glass door.

“Travis! You mind?”

“Get out. We need to leave now. There’s an officer nosing around.”

Wes froze. “We… no. No, we got away.”

Travis walked over and opened the door, shutting the shower off and pulling Wes out of the shower. He gave him a kiss, fleeting but passionate.

“Listen, baby, you can’t freeze up right now. We need to get out of here,” Travis murmured. He grabbed Wes a towel and shoved it in his hands. Wes started wiping himself off. Travis went back into their room and threw their clothes into the backpacks, leaving some clothes out for him and Wes. Wes came out and started changing into them. Once they were both dressed, they grabbed their bags and headed out. 

The hall was quiet. There were breakfast trays scattered here and there. Wes and Travis walked close together. It was comforting when their arms touched.   
They took the elevator down, silent the entire ride down. People were milling about in the lobby. The Martinezes had paid for both rooms, and Wes and Travis had paid them back in cash. Wes and Travis avoided eye contact. A man in a uniform had his back to them. Once they got outside, they sprinted for the car and scrambled inside. Mrs. Martinez took off. Travis turned around and looked. The officer was running out into the parking lot.

“Shit. Step on it,” he told her. She pressed down on the gas and they zoomed off down the road. If that officer had recognized them and read the license plate, they had just put the Martinezes in danger. Travis watched out the back, but no one followed them. He glanced over at Wes before grabbing his hand. Wes turned his head to Travis, worry lines covering his face. They weren't safe. None of them were.


	19. Nineteen

“You are _not_ getting those,” Wes said, staring at him in disbelief. Travis looked down at the Twinkies and chips in his hands.

“Why the hell not?”

“You’re going to die of a heart attack. How do you look like that and eat all that junk?” Wes asked. Travis grinned at him, putting his spoils on the checkout counter with Wes’ healthy shit.

“Look like what?”

Wes turned a little red as he paid the man for their food. “You know. Fit.”

They walked outside the gas station together and sat on the curb to eat their food. They were finally in Greenville. It was bittersweet. They were getting close to their destination, but they had to say goodbye to the Martinezes. Travis bumped his leg playfully against Wes’.

“I think you mean muscular, drool-worthy, _god-like_ -”

“No, I think I meant fit,” Wes replied, bumping back into Travis. Travis smirked.

“You should know.”

The pink returned to Wes’ face. “Does everything have to be about sex?”

“It should be,” Travis said with his mouth full. Dr. and Mrs. Martinez came out of the gas station and walked over to them.

“We’ll miss you two. Maybe we’ll meet up again someday,” Mrs. Martinez said hopefully. 

“Thank you for showing us so much kindness,” Wes said. She smiled and gave him a hug, then gave Travis a hug. Dr. Martinez gave them both handshakes.

“What are you going to do?” Travis asked.

“Check to see if we’re on the radar. If not, continue our lives under these identities. If so, we’ll just have to move on,” Dr. Martinez replied, wrapping an arm around his wife.

“Good luck,” Travis said with a smile.

“Good luck.”

They watched the couple walk off. Travis felt a little empty at that. He shouldn't have gotten so attached. It hurt to think they’d never meet them again.

They cleaned up their trash and started heading for the highway. They would never catch a ride in town.

They made their way down the road. Soon it was just them and the road. Travis let his hand bump into Wes’, then tangled their fingers together. Wes smiled.

It wasn't long before they heard cars and let go. Travis held up his thumb eagerly at the passing cars. Wes walked a little ways away, snacking on the food he’d bought. He heard the crunch of tires on gravel before he saw the approaching car. The van stopped and the passenger rolled down the window. The van needed a paint job badly. The passenger was a white man with long, scraggly black hair pulled back in a ponytail. The driver was leaning into view. He was darker than the passenger and far cleaner-looking. 

“Hey! You guys looking for a ride?” the passenger asked. Wes looked back at Travis and approached the vehicle.

“You heading west?”

“Matter of fact, we are,” the driver spoke up, “As far as Franklin. You look pretty well-groomed for hitchhikers.”

Travis came up behind him. “Last car we rode in made a lot of stops.”

The passenger nodded. “Hop in.”

Travis opened the back sliding door. Wes hesitated when he saw two other big men. He looked back to the passenger. 

“Oh, we have two other friends. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Wes was about to say yes, but Travis climbed in. Wes had a bad feeling about this. 

“What’s the matter, blondie?”

Wes frowned and got in. “Nothing.”

He shut the door and they took off. The passenger turned in his seat.

“I’m Rick. The driver here is Steve. And back there are Ryan and Ethan.”

“Jacob and this is my best friend, Chris,” Wes said, making up names off the top of his head.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve said with a glance in the rearview mirror.

They rode along, Travis discussing sports and movies with Steve. Wes looked up from his lap when he no longer felt the sensation of moving. They were parked in front of an old house. It could use a little work, but it was attractive with that old charm.

“We just need to grab our bags and then we can head out of town,” Steve explained, “Come on in. We can show you the place.”

Wes shot Travis a concerned look before climbing out of the car and following the men. Travis was hovering close by him, far too close. He gave him an irritated look. He walked in the front door after Rick and Steve. The room was entirely empty, the wooden floor dusty and stained, the wallpaper peeling off the walls.

He heard a scuffle and was about to turn around, but strong arms held him in place and shoved a strong-smelling cloth on his face. He fought, choking and spluttering, but everything started to turn dark and he collapsed on the floor, losing consciousness.


	20. Twenty

Travis woke up slowly. It was cold beneath him. He tried to bring his hands down to push himself up off the floor, and met resistance. He looked at his hands and inhaled sharply. He was handcuffed to a pipe. He pulled on it, but the metal only cut into his hands. He let out a frustrated noise, and then he remembered Wes. He glanced around and immediately spotted him across the room, handcuffed to another exposed pipe and unconscious. 

“Wes,” he hissed. The man didn’t stir. Travis growled in irritation. It looked like they were in the basement. Had the men just left them there? Were they going to turn them in? Or worse?

One of his questions was answered as he heard some murmured conversation in the next room. Travis scrambled around for something, anything. He dug out a piece of the floor and threw it at Wes. Wes stirred a little.

“Wes.”

Wes opened his eyes and started panicking immediately. The hushed conversation stopped and he heard footsteps. The two large men that had been in the back of the van came in.

“You two be quiet.”

“Why are you doing this? Take our money, just let us go,” Wes said. Even panicking, Wes could pretend he wasn't on the run. 

“Oh, you’re worth a lot more than what you have,” the redhead said with a grin. He held up a wanted poster with their faces on it. “Wes Mitchell and Travis Marks.”

“Shit,” Travis breathed. They had bounties on their heads. So that’s what they were dealing with here. Bounty hunters.

“You and your boyfriend are gonna have us living comfortably for a long time,” the redhead said.

“Fucking bastards!” Travis spit out.

“Listen,” Wes said carefully, “We’re just two guys that wanted out of some bad business. We haven’t done anything wrong. Please, just let us go.”

The other man with curly blond hair looked uncomfortable, but the redhead laughed.

“No way. Sorry, man. Come on, Ethan,” the redhead- Travis couldn't remember his name. Brian? Ryan?- walked off. Ethan gave them both a sad look before following him back out into the hall.

“Wes,” he called out to the slumped figure. The blonde looked up tiredly.

“I feel sick.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m gonna get us out of here.”

“You’re not my knight in shining armor, and I am not the damsel in distress, Travis. We can find a way together,” Wes snapped. Travis gave him an exasperated look.

“That’s _really_ what you’re focusing on here? Jesus, man.”

 

Time seemed to crawl along. Rick and Steve seemed to be the ones in charge, too high up on the food chain to do lowly tasks like watching them or checking on them. It was late afternoon as he heard their guards discussing their fate.

“We’re not gonna… kill them, are we?” came a low voice- Ethan’s maybe.

“Of course not. They’re worth way more alive.”

He heard a relieved sigh from the first voice. “So why don’t we just hand them over to the local cops?”

“Because we want to make sure we get that reward. They can have their rebels once we’re on the road with money in our pockets.”

There was a long pause.

“It just doesn't seem right.”

“You’re getting soft _now_?They’ll be here in a few days and then we can collect. Come on. We’ve got a job to do.”

 

Travis could tell it was evening by the darkness that fell over the room, their only source of light being a small window. Travis smacked his dry lips together. He could just make out Wes’ shape, the moonlight falling on his pale skin. Travis wanted to touch him, to turn those exasperated sighs he heard now and then into content ones. 

“Wes? You doing okay, baby?”

There was a short pause before a tired-sounding Wes answered. “Yeah. You?”

“I’m okay.”

There was another long pause before Wes spoke up again. “Travis?”

“Yeah?”

“If we get separated… if we never see each other again, I just want you to know-”

The stairs to the basement groaned, alerting them to someone’s presence, and Wes fell silent. Travis heard the soft patter of footsteps on the cement, and was blinded by the sudden flash of light in his eyes. He let out an annoyed noise, covering his eyes with his hand.

“Sorry.”

It was Ethan. He was balancing two trays and a flashlight in his hands. He set a tray in front of each man before sitting in the middle between them. There was just some buttered bread and peaches, but Travis was starving. He would have eaten about anything. He imagined Wes on the other side of the room, wrinkling his noise and thinking about how unbalanced this meal was. He smiled softly as he struggled to bring the bread to his lips with the handcuffs on. The best part, though, was when Ethan pulled out a thermos and poured them cups of water. Travis accepted his eagerly, draining the cup immediately. Ethan filled it back up for him.

“How did you balance all that stuff?” Travis asked, sipping at his water. Ethan laughed.

“I used to be a waiter at a diner. I’m used to juggling things.”

The silence between them carried on for a few minutes, the only sounds being the clanking of their glasses on the cement and the soft rattle of their handcuffs.

“That reminds me of one of my mamas,” Travis said. Ethan gave him a confused look. “I was in foster care. Anyway, one of my mamas- Rose- was a waitress at this neat diner. It had a jukebox and everything. And every day, Rose would let me have a quarter to play one song. You know, when you’re a kid, sometimes you forget actions have consequences. I just loved staring up at that machine, watching it light up and play music on my command. So one day after my one song, I felt I deserved another song. A waitress hadn’t gotten her tip yet on the table next to me, and what do you know? Two shiny quarters were just sitting there.”

Travis could tell his audience was captivated. He sat back, sighing.

“I reached for a quarter and… my mama slapped my hand away. She asked what I was doing. I told her I just wanted one more song. You know what she said? You can’t just steal from people, no matter how much you want something. You can’t just steal from us, Ethan.”

“But I’m not-”

“You stole our bags. And you’re selling us out. We’re _people_ , Ethan.”

“I know, it’s just… I need the money, okay? Just leave me alone,” the larger man snapped, getting up and walking out of the room. The light of the flashlight bobbed along the walls and disappeared around the corner.


	21. Twenty-One

Wes and Travis mostly kept quiet the next day. Wes knew they didn't have long before the officers would come, maybe a day. He could tell what Travis was doing. He was getting in Ethan’s head, planting a seed of sympathy. He just didn't know what he was planning beyond that. And they couldn't discuss anything with those two sitting outside the room.

Ethan hadn’t come all day, and none of the others seemed to care. Wes rubbed his dry lips together, letting out a sigh. 

“Hey, assholes! We’re _people_ , you know! We kinda need food and water!”

“Shut up, jack-ass!”

“Jack-ass?! Who are you calling a jack-ass, you mother-”

“Travis!” Wes interrupted him tiredly. He didn't want them to lose any points with Ethan. Travis glanced at him before sinking back against the wall grumpily.

As the day got later and later, Wes got more and more uncomfortable. He hadn't gotten much to drink, but his bladder hurt from holding it in for so long. He winced.

“Ethan?” he called out. Travis looked at him curiously. The talking stopped, but there wasn't an answer. Travis shook his head and mouthed something like looked like ‘Not just Ethan.’ 

“Ryan?” Wes added. Travis nodded. Ryan opened the door and walked in.

“ _What_?”

“Ryan, we need to go to the bathroom. And we’re hungry and thirsty.”

Ryan stared at them for a few moments before walking back out of the room. Wes moaned and leaned his head against the wall. He heard some footsteps and then Ryan entered the room again, carrying two buckets. He put one in front of each of them, nodding.

“Then _piss_.”

“Couldn't you just get rid of the handcuffs and take us upstairs?”

Ryan laughed. “We’re in a gutted old house. There is no toilet.”

“Couldn’t you take us outside, the-”

“And risk you two getting away? Not a chance.”

Travis glared at the man before pulling down his pants a little and going. Wes dragged his bucket over so he could face the wall, his face red.

When they were done, Ryan grabbed the buckets and walked out of the room without saying another word. Wes slumped back down to the floor. “I’m so thirsty.”

“Hang in there, baby,” Travis mumbled.

Wes groaned in reply. Soon they heard footsteps again. This time it was Ethan, carrying two trays and two cups. The trays each had a couple of biscuits and a pile of green beans. Wes winced at the thought of touching food without washing his hands, but he didn't really have a choice. He grabbed the water and immediately tanked it down. Then he went after the beans while Ethan filled up his cup again and then went to fill up Travis’ again.

“Sorry. They told me I was stupid for wanting to come. “

Wes looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Ethan.”

“Yeah. I just thought you guys were probably really hungry,” he said, sitting between them. Travis gave Wes a serious look. Wes gave him a slight nod. Whatever plan Travis had cooked up, they were going to try to escape today. 

“Hey, Ethan,” Travis said, stuffing the last bit of biscuit in his mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“You wanna know something about that man over there?” he asked. He pointed at Wes, and Ethan turned to look at him, exchanging confused looks with Wes.

“S-Sure.” 

“When I first met Wes, he was an asshole with a rod up his ass.”

Wes made a face at Travis, and the darker man laughed, smiling softly and looking straight at Wes.

“But he went out of his way to help me. He gave me second chances. And he cares so much about people. You’d think he doesn't because of his bitchiness, but he does. And you should see that man in the moonlight,” Travis said. Wes felt his face heat up. No one had ever talked about him like that.

Ethan coughed awkwardly, and Travis looked at back at him.

“Do you love him?”

Travis hesitated. “I care about him. Ethan, as soon as those officers come, Wes and I will never get to see each other again. At least… let me kiss him. Please.”

Wes frowned in confusion and watched Ethan’s face carefully. The larger man looked scared.

“They’ll be mad. You’ll try to escape.”

“Listen, it’ll be fine. You can even keep my hands handcuffed, okay?” Travis said. Ethan sat there for a few moments, thinking, before standing up and unlocking Travis’ handcuffs and quickly snapping the cuff that was around the bar around his other wrist. He led Travis across the room, and stood close as Wes stood up. Travis gave him another serious look, and Wes knew it was time. Travis cupped Wes’ face in his hands, pressing his lips to Wes’. Wes tried to ignore the gigantic leap his heart made. Wes felt Ethan’s eyes on them until Travis made the kiss dirtier, teeth clacking and tongues clashing. He was honestly having a hard time staying focused with Travis’ tongue in his mouth. As soon Ethan turned away, Wes looked up and tapped Travis’ side. Travis slammed into Ethan, pushing him against a wall.

“You’re going to wait three minutes, then call 9-1-1 so a doctor can treat your friends for the wounds I’m going to give them, and then you’re going to leave and never go into this line of business again. You’re going to find a normal job, and have a normal life, and no one is ever going to be treated like shit like we were under your watch again,” Travis growled, his hands at Ethan’s throat. Ethan choked and nodded.

“You wait three minutes, or I will hunt you down.”

Ethan nodded again, and Travis let go of him. He searched Ethan’s pockets and pulled out a key. He unlocked his handcuffs, then ran to Wes and unlocked his. 

“When do I start the three minutes?” Ethan asked, still up against the wall. Wes picked up their trays and threw one to Travis.

“Now.”


	22. Twenty-Two

Travis opened the door and Wes walked out quietly. Ryan turned, and Wes slammed the tray into his face. After a few seconds of shock, Ryan sprang up from the floor, and Wes grabbed his head and rammed it into the wall. The man slumped to the floor, passed out. Wes checked his pockets and found a knife. The trays were more likely to incapacitate them, so he pocketed the weapon.

Travis headed for the stairs, and Wes followed him, tapping his shoulder to let him know he had his back. Travis went up the stairs quickly and smoothly. He paused at the door and looked right and left. He nodded at Wes and went to the left. Wes followed. They stopped at a doorway, staying against the wall. The other two, Rick and Steve, were sitting on the floor, going through their packs. Travis looked back at Wes with uncertainty. It seemed like a bad idea to just run in there, but what choice did they have? They couldn’t have them following them.

“I’ve gotta take a leak,” Rick said, scratching his head and walking out the door. Wes nodded at Travis and followed him into the living room, Steve’s back turned to them.

“Hey, asshole,” Travis called softly. Steve whipped around right as Travis smacked him in the face hard enough to knock him out. “Sweet dreams.”

“I hope that didn't cause any damage to his brain,” Wes murmured.

Travis rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he certainly needs what little brains he’s got left.”

Wes checked the door, then started running. He could hear Travis sprinting after him. Strong arms grabbed Wes out of nowhere, and he cried out. He felt the barrel of a gun pressed to his forehead.

“Stop, or blondie dies.”

Travis skidded to a halt, putting his hands up to show he wasn't a threat. “Okay. Let’s just keep calm.”

“Calm? Get your ass back in that basement and I’ll consider not killing your boyfriend.” Rick said. Wes gave Travis a serious look, then elbowed Rick in the stomach. Travis hurried forward and rammed his head into a tree before the man crumpled to the ground. Travis put a hand on Wes’ shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I was just tired of him calling me 'blondie.'"

Travis grinned and patted his shoulder before running toward the road.

“Wait!” Wes shouted.

“Come on, Wes!”

“Just wait!” he yelled. Travis stopped, looking back to him. Wes ran back inside and went through Steve’s pocket. He sighed in relief when he finally found the van’s keys, then grabbed their bags and sprinted for the door. 

“You kidding? That van is gonna be so easy to find-”

“We need to get out of here fast. We’ll ditch it later,” Wes said, throwing Travis a backpack. He hurried to unlock the car and start it, and Travis scrambled in. Wes drove fast on the country road until they reached the highway. He drove along for a few miles in silence, watching the road go on and on. Silence. Silence and darkness. That’s all those two days had been for them. He eventually pulled off at a pit stop. Travis looked over at him in confusion, but Wes just turned off the car and got out.

“Wes!”

He heard the other door slam and Travis’ footsteps before he was being turned around. Wes looked at him, really looked at his tired and pained face, and he slipped his arms around him. He was tired, too. Travis didn't hesitate to hug him back. They needed this, needed to feel wanted, to feel human again after that. 

Wes pulled away after a few minutes. “Did you mean what you said back there? About me?”

Travis smiled. “Every word of it.”

Wes smiled back, heading for the vending machine. “Well, I’m getting potato chips. What are you getting?”

“Potato chips? I thought you were into healthy foods.”

“And a big bottle of soda.”

“Soda?” Travis laughed, “Not water or green tea, baby?”

“Nope. I’m going crazy,” Wes said, putting change in the machine. Travis laughed even harder.

“Whoa, watch out. We've got a bad-ass over here.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me-”

Wes smirked and gave him a smooch. Travis grinned.

“I guess that’s not a bad way of shutting me up.”

 

They hadn't gotten any trouble over the van, so they decided to keep it. They weren’t far. It was a few days later when Travis finally recognized the roads. He had Wes going down dirt roads and taking a confusing route. Finally, they drove up to a big house- a manor would be a more appropriate word, Wes thought- surrounded by a tall hedge barrier that made it hard to see anything but the top of the house. He stopped at the gate, and a woman in casual wear comes out to meet them.

“I’m sorry, sir. This is a private residence. Unless you have an appointment, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

Travis leaned over, giving her that million-dollar smile. “We have an appointment with Mr. Ancien. I think we’re a little early, but told us to see him immediately.”

The woman nodded and opened the gate. Wes drove through and was quickly stopped by half a dozen men and women. 

“Get out of the vehicle. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A weird combination of serious action and playful fluff. I don't even know. I hope this is... actually good. I think I'm being really hard on myself. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it! Next chapter tomorrow!


	23. Twenty-Three

“It’s okay. It’s routine,” Travis murmured to Wes. He jumped out, his hands held up. Wes followed suit, grabbing their bags. A man got in their van and drove off, two people grabbed their bags out of his hands, and they each got patted down.

“Who are you?” a woman demanded.

“Travis Marks. Money’s my brother. And that’s my boyfriend.”

Another woman with dark hair pulled back into a pony-tail smiled sarcastically at him.

“Travis.”

Travis looked at her sheepishly. “Jonelle.”

“So you sleep with me and dump me, but you can maintain a relationship with someone else?” She smiled at Wes. “Hi, there. I’m Jonelle. What’s your name?”

Wes blinked at her. “Uh… Wes. Wes Mitchell.”

“Nice to meet you, Wes. I hope you have a good stay. Randi!”

Travis visibly winced as a black woman approached, a German shepherd following close behind.

“Travis, you remember Randi, right? The woman before me.”

Wes gave Travis an exasperated look. Travis avoided eye contact with all of them.

“Hey, Randi.”

“Hey, Travis. You remember Hudson?”

“Course I do!” Travis said, cooing at Hudson as the dog jumped all over him. “Hey, Hudson. What a good boy.”

“Come on, Wes. I’ll take you to Money,” Jonelle said, walking off. Wes walked after, smirking, and Travis was running to catch up.

“Hey, hello, he’s _my_ foster brother.”

“I’m sorry, did you hear something, Wes?” Jonelle asked.

“I don’t know, Jonelle. I think it was the wind,” he replied, grinning back at Travis. Travis’ face fell into an over-exaggerated frown. 

The manor was just as huge on the inside. It must have been nicely furnished and taken care of at one point, but now it was sectioned off with curtains and furnished with whatever they could find, it seemed. The living room seemed to be where the rebels went for entertainment, the dining room where they ate, and the various other rooms were closed off, probably bedrooms and offices. 

They were lead upstairs to one of the many bedrooms. This bedroom seemed to have been converted to an office, and a large, bald man sat at a desk.

“Moneyyyyy,” Travis called. Money turned and stood up, walking over to him.

“T-booooooooone.”

Wes blinked, watching Travis go over and practically jump on the bigger man.

“You okay, bro? They didn't hurt you, did they?” Money asked, looking him over.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks to you.”

Money smiled before his eyes fell on Wes. “Who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s just… that’s my boy, Wes Mitchell.”

Wes raised an eyebrow at his phrasing and Money shook his head.

“I told you, T-bone. You can’t just bring your friends here,” he said urgently. Travis looked back at Wes uncomfortably, and Wes gave him a look saying ‘Well?’.

“He’s uh…” Travis sniffed and rubbed his nose, fidgeting awkwardly. “He’s kind of my… boyfriend. Who used to be a New Age officer.”

Money said a word under his breath. Wes didn’t understand it, but he thought it was probably a curse. He turned on Travis. “What the hell were you thinking, bro? He’s gonna fly the minute he gets an opportunity and tell everyone where we are.”

“He’s not like that! I told him what they did; he looked at the group’s figures and confirmed it for himself!”

Money calmed down a little, staring at Wes. “You’re for real? You care about my brother?”

Wes nodded, licking his lips nervously. “I do.”

“The New Age group let Wes down. He’s not about to go back to them after the hell we've been through.”

Money walked over to Wes. Despite Money’s height and presence, Wes stood his ground. Money held out a hand. Wes took it, and Money pulled him into a half hug.

“Okay. You’re gonna have to stay for a while, though. Until the guys in charge trust you.”

Wes nodded, and Money let go, smiling. “So my little bro finally held on to someone.”

“I wouldn't say ‘held on’…”

Wes glared at him. “ We've been together for a few weeks now, Travis.”

“Well… okay, that’s longer than most of my relationships, I’ll give you that,” Travis rambled, “Anyway, come on. We can share a room.”

“Oh, goodie. Now you can hide my sanitizer again,” Wes said sarcastically. Travis laughed and headed out of the room.

“Actually, can I talk to Wes?” Money asked. Travis hesitated in the doorway.

“Huh? …Sure, I guess. I’ll… wait outside,” Travis said, closing the door. Suddenly, Money was in Wes’ face.

“You hurt my brother and I’ll tear you to pieces. Got it?”

“I- uh… no. I mean- no, I won’t hurt him and yes, I've got it,” Wes stammered. Money grinned and patted his shoulder.

“You’re a good man, Wes. Be good to my bro.”

Wes nodded, walking out of the room in a daze. Travis walked beside him, leading him down the hall.

“Let me guess, he threatened to kill you if you didn't treat me right.”

“Yep.”

“Oh, good. I was so worried about that despite you treating me decently, helping me escape from the New Age group, giving me the only pain medication, and helping me escape from psycho bounty hunters.” Travis said sarcastically with a laugh.

Travis led him to a room at the end of the hall. The bed wasn't exactly brand new- it was rusted and squeaked as he sat down on it. Travis flopped down next to him, putting his head in Wes’ lap.

“I’m tired, baby.”

Wes ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling. “Really? I thought maybe we could take a shower.”

Travis scrambled up. “I’m not _that_ tired.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter has sex in it. You can still understand the story if you skip it. Thanks and enjoy!


	24. Twenty-Four

Wes went over and locked the door. Travis was on him in a second, pulling at his clothes and kissing him. Wes explored his mouth eagerly, tasting him and enjoying the sensation of their tongues together. Travis pulled Wes’ shirt off and pulled him forward by the belt loops of his jeans into the bathroom. Wes hopped along, frantically trying to get his socks off. Travis started laughing, and soon Wes was chuckling, too.

Travis kissed him a little softer, and that was not what Wes wanted right then. He kissed back harder and Travis responded immediately, pulling Wes’ jeans and boxers down together. Wes was already semi-hard. Travis attacked Wes’ neck, licking and biting. Wes moaned. He reached out and fumbled with Travis’ button on his jeans for a few seconds before it just popped off his jeans.

Wes tried to stifle his laughter. When Travis wasn’t getting touched, he looked down at Wes’ hand.

“Man, I liked these jeans,” Travis whined. Wes was having a seriously hard time stifling his giggles. Travis pouted, pinning Wes to the wall.

“Come on, it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funn-” Wes managed to get out before Travis’ hand was on his cock. Travis stroked him fast and hard and Wes was panting and bucking into his hand. “Travis…”

Travis seemed to understand the warning and stilled his hand. Wes groaned and tried to roll his hips forward, but Travis put a hand on one hip.

“Not yet, baby.”

Wes almost whined when Travis let go of him. The darker man stripped down quickly before turning on the water and testing it. He stepped in, giving Wes an expectant look. But Wes just had to stop and appreciate the moment. Travis joked, but he really did have an amazing body. Wes watched the water drip down his dark skin, let his eyes rake over the muscles on his stomach, and further…

Wes stepped into the shower with him, and Travis immediately had him against the wall. The hot water, the steam, the warmth coming off Travis’ body... it was so hot, so smothering. Wes breathed him in, drew him in for a dirty kiss. He wanted to feel Travis all over. He groped Travis’ ass, slipping a finger between his cheeks to play around his entrance. Travis’ chest was heaving as Wes slipped a finger in. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against Wes’, his breath hot on Wes’ face. 

Travis ground hard into him. Wes moaned embarrassingly loudly, his hands grappling at Travis’ back. He pressed his body as close to Travis’ as he could. Wes wanted to see Travis, take him all in. The sight of Travis, naked and glistening and pressed up against him, was honestly one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. Travis let out a breathy moan, speeding up his movements and kissing Wes harder and sloppier. 

It felt fantastic; Wes wasn't going to argue that. But he wanted release, wanted it now, wanted to watch Travis go over the edge. He pulled away from the kiss and leaned his head back against the wall, his hand slipping between them and grabbing Travis’ cock. Travis let out a shaky breath before taking Wes in hand and stroking. Wes, instead, took his time and rubbed his thumb along the slit. Travis’ stroking slowed down. They were teasing each other, when both desperately wanted release.

Wes was almost painfully hard. He put a hand on Travis’ waist, trying to keep himself standing. And, with no warning, Travis sped up. Wes groaned, bucking into his fist. He could feel it coming fast. He wanted to glare at Travis for cheating because he was a moaning mess, barely able to do anything but keep his hand on Travis’ dick, and he was going to cum first. He panted, his fingers digging into his hip, as that lovely moment came and he let out a strangled moan. Travis stroked him through his orgasm as Wes came on his hand. Wes leaned back, breathing hard. Travis grinned and licked his hand.

“Are you gonna help me out or…?”

Wes’ eyes snapped back open. He took Travis in hand and stroked him hard and fast. Travis panted, thrusting along with him.

“God, Wes!” he breathed, his fingernails digging into Wes’ hips as Wes watched his face, watched his mouth hang open in ecstasy. Wes stroked him until he was done. He leaned forward and kissed him, letting his tongue snake in. Travis kissed back tiredly, a goofy grin on his face. Wes laughed.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Well, excuse me for looking happy after my orgasm, Mr. Grumpy-ass,” Travis murmured. He ran his fingers through Wes’ wet hair and pulled him closer.

“I _am_ happy,” Wes laughed before he was so close and when did Travis’ eyes get so blue? His voice dropped lower, his face serious. “I’m happy.”

Travis licked his own lips nervously. “Yeah, I am too, baby. Let’s get washed up.”

Wes rolled his eyes and gave him a peck on the lips. “That wasn't a declaration of love or anything. Stop looking at me like a deer in headlights.”

Travis grabbed the body wash off the shelf and started washing Wes off.

“I knew that. And I’m not.”

“Yeah, sure,” Wes said with a laugh.


	25. Twenty-Five

Travis wrapped a towel around himself, slapping Wes’ bare ass when he bent over to turn off the water. Wes turned and glared, but Travis was already running for the bed. He heard a knock and went to the door. 

“Jason?”

“If it isn't Dirty Dog,” the shorter man said, holding out his hand. Travis took it, giving him a half hug. 

“Hey… man, nobody calls me that anymore. What are you doing here?” Travis asked. Jason gave him a confused look.

“I’m working for the resistance now, bro. I joined while you were… you know,” he said. Travis nodded solemnly. Jason opened his mouth to say something else, but his eyes looked beyond Travis. Travis turned to follow his gaze and saw Wes coming out of the bathroom, lower half wrapped in a towel.

“Who the hell is that?”

Wes looked up and his face immediately turned red. “Oh, I… uh…”

“Travis Marks, exception to all the rules, huh? ‘Don’t bring any friends or sexual partners back to resistance headquarters.’”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen. I’m going to Money with this. And don’t you try to stop me,” Jason spat before marching off.

“Jason!” Travis cried after him, but the other man didn't stop. Travis came back in the room, closing the door behind him.

“It was just a misunderstanding, right?” Wes asked. Travis walked over and wrapped his arms around Wes and leaned his head on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I guess. Does he really think I’d do that?”

Wes let his hand glide down the muscles of his back, hoping he was being comforting. He never really knew how to deal with things like that.

“I don’t know. But he’ll find out that I’m here to fight, not just a dalliance. …I’d be more willing to comfort you if you weren't touching my butt right now.”

“But you have a fantastic ass, baby,” Travis murmured. Wes chuckled, kissing his neck softly.

 

“This is a row of boring offices. Down there are some bedrooms. We were actually pretty lucky to get a bedroom to ourselves,” Travis told Wes, showing him around the place. Wes looked around curiously, nodding every now and then. 

“What’s that room?” 

“Closet. Storage space.”

“Oh.”

Travis led him down the hall and to the right, opening the door to the dining area. Wes trailed a hand along the wallpapered walls. It was a pretty big room, and must have been quite elegant at one time. Now, it contained a really long, cheap-looking table. People were sprinkled along the table, eating snacks and talking or reading.

Suddenly, Travis heard the door slam. He turned to see Jason fuming in the doorway. He stalked over to Wes, shoving him. “What the hell are you doing here? You bastard! Sleeping with my brother to get information?!”

“What-” was all Wes managed to get out before Jason’s fist connected with his cheek. Travis felt a growl rip from his throat as he rushed forward, grabbing Jason. Wes had fallen onto the floor from the hit. Travis had his foster brother by the shirt, ready to punch.

“Travis, stop!” 

Travis hesitated, looking at Wes. The lighter man stood up and studied Jason.

“I think _I _should punch him.”__

__“I’m taking care of it. Just let me get a good angle.”_ _

__“No, really. I think it’s really my privilege here.”_ _

__“Well, when you put it like that-”_ _

__“Marks!” a blonde woman shouted. Travis turned to her and grinned, still holding Jason by the shirt._ _

__“Oh, hey, Kate. Lookin’ good.”_ _

__“Travis, let go of your foster brother and take it somewhere else or I’m reporting it to Sutton,” Kate said._ _

__Travis let go of his shirt, giving Jason a murderous look before speaking._ _

__“Meet me outside.”_ _

__Jason glared at him and walked off. The dining room slowly went back to normal, a soft hum of voices returning to the room. Travis took Wes by the hand and pulled him into the kitchen, past the cooks and to the back._ _

__“Come on, up,” Travis said, helping him onto a counter. He went over to the freezer and took out an ice pack, pressing it to Wes’ red cheek._ _

__“…Thanks,” Wes mumbled, taking the ice pack from him. Travis nodded._ _

__“I’m gonna go talk to Jason. You okay?”_ _

__“Yeah, I’m fine.”_ _

__“You sure?”_ _

__“I’m fine, Travis,” Wes snapped. Travis gave him an annoyed look before walking off._ _

__

__Travis found Jason in the garden sitting on a bench. He walked over to him, hesitating a few steps away._ _

__“I’m not going to punch you.”_ _

__“Actually, I was more worried about what _I’d_ do to _you_ ,” Travis replied. Jason looked back at him._ _

__“Since when have you been gay?”_ _

__“It’s really none of your damn business, but I’m bisexual,” he said, “And let’s get one thing clear. I don’t care if you’re my foster brother. You hurt Wes again, and I will end you.”_ _

__“Since when did you start caring about someone other than yourself?” Jason spat out, “You don’t realize how far gone you are.”_ _

__He got up and started walking away. Travis went after him._ _

__“Jason. Jason! What the hell does that mean?!”_ _

__Jason spun around, almost running into him. “So this guy who works for The New Age group suddenly starts doing you favors, gets in bed with you, and suddenly he’s on our side?”_ _

__“They wronged him!”_ _

__“Or he told you they wronged him! He told you exactly what you wanted to hear! And you just couldn't keep it in your pants. Big surprise,” he growled, “You watch. Pretty soon, he’ll start asking you questions about the higher-ups and all the good stuff. And he will betray us.”_ _

__He stalked away, not even sparing Travis a second glance._ _


	26. Twenty-Six

Travis walked in the door to their room. Wes wasn't there. He sighed and plopped down on the bed. Jason was wrong. He saw Wes, how pained he’d been, how betrayed he’d looked. And yet… Jason had planted a seed of doubt in his head. The garden, the escape, the feelings… was it all just a show? 

He picked up a shirt off the bed, balled it up, and threw it across the room in anger. How stupid could he be? He’d been so desperate for someone to trust. Why would _anyone_ choose Travis? People left Travis. Wes would be no different.

 

Wes held the ice pack to his face as he walked down the hall, glancing in the rooms with doors open. Some people gave him curious looks, most gave him annoyed looks and stopped talking. Some closed the door. He turned the corner and walked past some offices, some with beds shoved in them. But the one at the end of the hall was obviously important. Wes knocked on the half open door, but no one answered.

“Hello?” 

He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, looking around. A sweet smell immediately hit him, and he coughed a little at the intensity of it. The walls had artwork hanging on them, abstract stuff. Wes walked in further, his eyes drawn to a large file cabinet. He was tempted to go through it, but he had no right. And if anyone found it, they would take it wrong. He put his hands on the back of a chair in front of the desk, leaning over to check out what looked like wind chimes and a small fountain on the desk. Wes realized the smell was coming from some incense burning. He glanced up. The wall was covered in awards for outstanding performance by Mike Sutton. 

“Whoa,” he breathed. 

It was only then that he realized a soft humming had ceased, and a short, chubby man stood up from the floor behind the desk. Wes backed away a little. The older man chuckled.

“No need to be scared. I heard you knock. I was just in a very important meditation. I haven’t seen you around here. Are you Wes Mitchell?” he asked. 

“Yes, sir,” Wes answered, relaxing a little. Sutton gestured to the chair opposite of his desk and he and Wes sat down.

“I’m Mike Sutton. A lot of people here call me Captain from my days with Robbery-Homicide. I was Travis’ boss, you know.”

Wes grinned. “Really?”

Sutton laughed. “That’s right. Boy, was I scared of that kid getting himself killed. He’s bold, daring, and hotheaded.”

“Then he hasn't changed,” Wes snorted.

“Oh, I don’t know. I hear the buzz. The gossip. The 4-1-1.”

Wes stared at him.

“What I mean is, people around here have known Travis for a long time. We’re a tight-knit family here. And people have told me Travis is different,” he said, studying Wes’ face, “Because of you.”

Wes felt his face heat up a little. “I don’t think it’s _all_ me. I mean, he was kidnapped twice. People generally change.”

Sutton shrugged, holding up his hands in defeat. “Think of that as you will, but that’s what the bees have been buzzing about.”

They were silent for a few moments before Wes looked up again.

“Captain, what really happened? When the New Age took over?”

“What did they tell you?”

“They started closing cases that the government couldn't- didn't- before, finding justice for families. The case of that dead little girl… evidence had been buried. They got her justice.”

“And a little girl’s name was used to push their campaign. A lunatic with money and power, that’s all that Roberts is.”

“The leader of the New Age group?”

Sutton grunted. “Yes. The evidence would suggest that the man who they say killed that little girl is innocent. That the evidence was fabricated.”

Wes clenched his jaw. Not another innocent person. They had done the opposite of what they had promised.

“Roberts’ father was a senator. He was very vocal about his anti-gay views. Roberts grew up around that, and set financially, spoiled rotten. And it just turned him rotten. Too bad he learned from his dad how to make the outside sugar sweet. They saw their chance when the U.S. was weak, when people were angry and yearning for change.”

Cap looked around, sighing. “You know, when my wife left me, she told me I was crazy for not believing them. This is all I've got now. This office and these people.”

“…My wife left me, too.”

“Ah, but the important thing is that we still have something worth fighting for,” he said with a wink. “As soon as Roberts bullied President Tate into resigning, probably even before, there were people that could see past all the razzle dazzle bullshit. We went into hiding all over the country. Thankfully, we have friends in high places, or we’d be goners. Can’t fight without guns or money,” he sighed, “Unfortunate that we have to fight in the first place. But they've left us with no choice.”

“What do I do, Captain?”

“I’m guessing you’re trained in fighting, but if you need some practice, which I recommend, there’s a training ground in the basement. Get to know the people. If they don’t care about you or are suspicious, they won’t have your back on the battlefield.”

Wes nodded. “Yes, sir. I will.” He stood up to leave and they exchanged a handshake.

“Now, join me in meditation.”

Wes stared at him. “…what?”

“Come on, come on. It clears your mind of negative thoughts and calms the nerves,” Sutton said, taking his hand.

Wes sat on the floor and meditated with him for half an hour.

 

He returned the ice pack to the freezer in the kitchen before making his way back to his room, humming lightly. He really hoped Travis hadn't gotten into another argument with Jason, or worse, a fight. He turned the knob. Travis was sitting on the bed, looking upset. Wes went over and sat by him.

“Argument with Jason?”

“…Yeah.”

Wes put a hand on his shoulder and Travis flinched. He took his hand away, frowning. He must be in a terrible mood.

“I met Cap. I was in his office, and he was actually on the floor, meditating. And I was asking him about how it really went-” He stopped when Travis let out a sardonic laugh. “What?”

“Asking about the higher-ups.”

“…Is there something wrong with that?”

“Yeah, there is,” Travis said, refusing to look at him, “You’re just going to betray us and desert us. And all I've ever been is a way to get here.”

That’s when Wes noticed his bag all packed and sitting by the door. His heart sank.

“That’s not true. You know me!”

“Do I? It hasn't been that long. I haven’t known you to be anything else but an officer of the New Age,” Travis replied. 

“I’m not now!”

“I shouldn't have trusted a stranger. I shouldn't have… let you trick me into thinking you actually…” he broke off, fighting hard to keep his expression neutral and failing. Wes gave him a hurt look and stood.

“Trick you?! You think I would…” Wes choked on his own words. It was spiraling out of control, and Wes felt his world crumbling apart. “Who did this? Jason?”

Travis turned his head so Wes couldn't see his face. “I can’t trust you. Find another room, Wes.”

Wes shook his head. This was wrong, all wrong. They’d been so happy this morning. It wasn't fair. He grabbed his bag and stalked out of the room, angry and hurt, and feeling lonelier than he ever had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out way longer than I thought it would. It was hard fitting those details in about both sides while keeping the conversation natural. I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter, but I did my best. Hope you enjoyed it, and I'll post the next chapter as soon as I can!


	27. Twenty-Seven

Wes walked down the hallways numbly, glancing at the nameplates when he passed offices. One said ‘Dr. Emma Ryan, Counselor and Human Relations.’ He knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” a female voice with a British accent said. Wes opened the door and stepped in. The room was cozy, filled with soft and comforting things. He stood near the door and waited for the woman to look up.

“Go ahead and take a seat.”

He did, choosing an overstuffed armchair. He sat there quietly, his pack in his lap. She looked up and gave him a warm smile.

“I’m Dr. Ryan. How can I help you?”

“Oh, uh… I’m Wes Mitchell. I… need a room.”

She studied his face. “You and Travis Marks aren't together anymore, I take it?”

Wes avoided her gaze and nodded.

“That’s not a problem. We have a few empty rooms. Have you any objection to sharing a room with Jonelle?”

He shook his head. “As long as she’s okay with it.”

“She’s told me gender doesn't matter as long as her roommate is respectful of her privacy,” she said, giving Wes a look like ‘That means you, buddy.’ He nodded, and Dr. Ryan handed him a key.

“Welcome to the resistance.”

He nodded again and stood, heading for the door as fast as he could. He didn't want to talk about it. He knew she was wondering, that she wanted to ask questions. He stopped when she spoke up.

“Wes. I’m always here to talk. It isn't a bad idea to get things off your chest after a break-up.”

Wes looked back at her. She seemed sincere. But it pissed him off. His grip on his pack tightened. 

“I don’t need to just talk about it, okay? He just… he just threw away everything… It was an easy out and he took it. Just like everyone else in my life.”

He left before she could say anything.

 

Wes knocked on the door before going in. Jonelle was sitting on her bed, reading a book. She gave Wes a confused look.

“Hey… Wes, right? Did you need something?” she asked.

“No, I just… Dr. Ryan said this was my room now,” he mumbled.

“What? Don’t tell me he broke up with you.”

Wes avoided her gaze, putting his bag on the opposite bed and starting to unpack. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I thought… well, he just seemed really different around you. Still an asshole, but not a _complete_ asshole.”

Wes let out a grim laugh. “Well, that’s great. That’s just… fantastic. Everyone’s telling me what a good influence I am on him. La-dee-fucking-dah. It’s over. He doesn't trust me.”

He stopped trying to fold his clothes and dropped the shirt he was holding onto the bed. He wiped furiously at his face, sitting on the bed. Jonelle got up and walked over, sitting next to him and putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Wes felt like pulling away, but he didn't.

“You've been dating… what? A month or something, right? What made him change his mind _now_?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I think it was Jason.”

“Huh? His foster brother?” she asked, pulling her legs up and making herself comfortable. Wes really hadn't had anyone listen to him like this before except Travis and Alex. He looked up at Jonelle and nodded.

“What’s he got against you?”

“He thinks I’m... he thinks I was sleeping with Travis to get information for the New Age group.”

“That seems way out of character for you,” she said, “Keep going. Tell me about yourself and you and Travis.”

Wes hesitated, and she put a reassuring hand on his arm.

“It just kind of seems like you need a friend right now. And I’m a good listener. I’ll even keep myself from saying bad things about Travis… unless you want me to.”

Wes laughed. “No, I don’t. But okay.”

Jonelle was a good listener, though Wes blushed furiously when she asked about the sex. She was on his side, rooting for him. She believed in him. And he needed that more than anything.

“After all that, he dumped you? Why?”

Wes shook his head. “Because he doesn't really believe anyone could love him, and he’s scared. He was expecting something to happen.”

“Wait… love?”

Wes felt his face flush. “I… I didn't mean to say that. It’s too soon.”

Jonelle just nodded, trying to hide her smile. Wes played with the edge of his jeans, hoping she wouldn't ask him about the slip-up again.

“Are you going to go talk to him?” Jonelle asked. 

“…We don’t… talk,” he mumbled. Jonelle let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, maybe you two should start.”

“I don’t think he would listen.”

Jonelle stood up and held out her hand. “Come on. Let’s stop talking about it and go take it to the training grounds.”

Wes took her hand and stood, grinning. “That’s the best suggestion you've made all day.”


	28. Twenty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... just another note that I have zero medical knowledge and just did my best off google searches. Happy reading!

It had been a couple days since the break-up. Wes was getting along amazingly well with Jonelle. It was kind of hilarious to hear the ex-coroner explain to him how to kill Travis and get away with it. Hilarious, and disturbing.

Wes spent most of his time with Jonelle and Randi. Thankfully, he and Travis had managed to avoid each other for the most part. Although, there were two moments. Once, he went down to eat and walked in. He made eye contact with Travis and his heart twisted painfully. Travis looked away, and Wes went back upstairs and waited an hour before going back down. 

And then there was the training grounds. Wes had gone down with Jonelle, both wanting to go on the bikes. They passed through the doorway and Wes froze. Travis was lifting weights across the room. His heart did that painful twisting again and then… Travis took off his shirt. He still hadn't noticed Wes. Travis was glistening with sweat, and Wes couldn't look away as he watched his muscles move when he lifted the bar. He could feel his breathing speed up and his mouth go dry, and it hurt. It absolutely hurt to know what his body felt like and not being able to touch him or feel him, hold him or kiss him. 

And then Jonelle called him softly and he turned away, going off to the bike section. When they were done, Travis was already gone.

 

Wes stepped out of the bathroom, his teeth brushed and flossed. Jonelle was sitting on her bed, and Randi was on his. They both gave him worried glances before looking at each other.

“What?”

“…Travis left to go on a mission with a group of others,” Randi said softly. Wes walked over and sat down numbly. She patted his hand. “It should only last a week.”

“Is it… dangerous?” he asked. She bit her lip.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s a little dangerous. They’re taking down an enemy post.”

“There shouldn't be many soldiers stationed there,” Jonelle said immediately, “They shouldn't be fighting long. They've got them way out-numbered.”

“That idiot. He…” Wes broke off, standing up and walking off for the training grounds. It was better if he was alone, and no one bothered him when he was working out. He went down the stairs and turned the corner, heading for the treadmills. Thankfully, there was only one other person working out in that area, and so he hopped on. Travis was so stupid and frustrating and reckless. He wanted to throttle him. He thought they’d eventually make up maybe, do their thing and just gravitate toward another and work it out and then they’d click again and everything would be perfect. But if he died…

Wes hit the machine in frustration. He couldn't lose him. He couldn't lose his best friend. He slammed his fist into it again and stopped it, ignoring the looks that got him. Nothing was helping. He stepped off of it and grabbed a towel. When had the room gained two big men? Wes felt uneasy as they stopped exercising and followed him at a distance. He walked calmly around the corner, then ran up the stairs. He could hear their heavy footsteps behind him. He was sure he was quicker. He ran outside.

It was dark outside, the only light being the ones at the gate and a small one outside the door. Soon he was running into the black of the night, praying he wouldn't run into anything. 

He slammed into another body and crashed down onto the ground. Strong hands pulled him up. He could faintly make out the face of one of the men that had been in the gym. He grabbed Wes’ face roughly.

“Get your fucking traitor ass out of our house, New Age,” he spat. He heard shuffling, and suddenly, something slammed into his face. Wes cried out in alarm, fighting to get free of his captor’s arms. He felt a punch to his stomach.

“Leave, or you’ll get another taste of this. And tell anyone about this, and next time, you won’t be able to walk away.” 

He heard their running footsteps and picked himself up. His face and stomach were throbbing. He stopped by the kitchen, walking to the back and grabbing a couple ice packs out of the freezer. He hesitated at the counter, tracing his fingertips along the surface, before turning and walking away.

He could feel his face swelling. He’d probably get another black eye. He opened the door and, to his dismay, Jonelle and Randi were right where he’d left them. They let out a gasp at the same time, and Wes waved them away. He flopped on his bed, putting one ice pack on his stomach and the other on his cheek.

“Wes, what the hell happened?” Jonelle asked, getting up and lifting his shirt. He whined in protest, but she glared at him.

“Let me check you over,” she said. She pressed her fingers to the red area. “Did you get hit here?”

“It was only a fist and it was only once.”

Jonelle sighed in relief. “Then you’re just going to bruise.” She touched his cheekbone, and he winced. “Who did this to you, Wes?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn't know the guys.”

“But you saw them? Describe them to me,” Randi said, pulling a notebook and a pencil out.

“No. It doesn't matter. I know who sent them.”

Their expressions darkened. “Jason.”

“Right. Which raises the question: why is he so adamant that I leave?”

Randi got up, pacing the room. “We’re going to have to follow him.”

“It’ll be too obvious in a place this tightly knit,” Jonelle murmured, “We’ve gotta get in his room and look around.”

“I’ll distract,” Randi said.

“And I’ll play lookout,” Jonelle replied, patting Wes’ leg. Wes smiled at them. 

“Let’s find out this jerk’s secret.”


	29. Twenty-Nine

It was three days since Travis left headquarters. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, sitting down next to a guy he knew. Peter? Peyton?

“Hey. Travis, right?”

He nodded, pausing awkwardly. The guy laughed.

“Perry.”

“Perry. Right.”

Perry had dirty blonde hair. He scratched the stubble on his face. Travis remembered the feel of Wes’ stubble before Wes shaved, the feel of his lips. 

Travis looked away from Perry. 

“Hey. Hey, Travis,” Perry said, poking at him and bringing him out of his thoughts, “Want a smoke?”

Travis stared at the cigarette. He hadn’t smoked in years. He quit for his health. He didn't much care right then. He took the cigarette and slipped it between his lips, the feeling familiar. Perry held out his lighter. It made Travis think of Jason’s lighter trick. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag. Perry sat back, comfortable in his company. Travis watched the smoke twirl away and disappear in the air. Perry looked over at him, smoking his own cigarette.

“You got a girl?” 

Travis closed his eyes, his stomach doing a nervous swoop. “Just recently got out of a relationship.”

“That’s too bad, man. I’ve been with Becca for about a year now. Love of my life. I could tell right away, you know? We just click together. ‘Opposites attract,’ they say,” he said with a laugh. Travis stood up abruptly, stamping out his cigarette.

“Hey, what’s your problem?”

“…Nothing, man. I just threw away something perfect without doing my research. I should have checked first.”

Travis started to walk off toward the tent.

“Travis!”

He looked back to Perry, and the other man pointed his cigarette at him.

“We’re gonna survive this, and you’ll get another chance with her.”

Travis gave him a nod and turned back to the tent, opening the flap and walking inside. He walked to his bed area and sank down. He felt guilty for smoking. He felt guilty for running from his problems. And he felt guilty about letting his insecurities getting in the way of his common sense. But he had no choice but to wait and hope he survived.

 

Randi had been talking to Jason more and more for the past few days. She finally convinced him to help her with a training exercise for Hudson, and they leapt at the opportunity. As soon as Randi texted them, Jonelle and Wes made their way from the dining room to Jason’s room.

“Good thing his roommate’s on the mission with Travis,” Jonelle said. Wes nodded, opening the door and looking in. He checked out the bathroom. 

“Clear. Watch the door.”

“Got it.”

Wes went to a bed and started looking through the owner’s things. He recognized a lighter as Jason’s. He went through his gym bag, turning up his nose at all the dirty clothes in it. Next, he looked under his bed. It was messy, and Wes wanted to forget some of the things he found. He glanced at a desk against the wall. It was a little more organized than the other parts of the room. Wes went through the papers in the desk, through all the folders… nothing.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. He didn't have time for this. Jason wasn't exactly dumb. So where would he hide something important? Not out in the open… Wes felt the bottom of each drawer for a false bottom. Finally, he found one that felt like it had hollow space. He peeled back the paper. There were stacks of papers. He went through them quickly. Security clearance into the New Age headquarters, agreements drawn up between the New Age and Jason. Damning evidence that Jason was a mole for the New Age group. He grinned and gathered the papers up in his arms, hurrying out and nodding at Jonelle.

 

“Cap? What did you…?” Jason stopped in his tracks when he saw Wes sitting in chair. Wes turned and gave him a cheeky wave. “What is he doing here?”

“He delivered these papers to me,” Cap said, holding up the papers for Jason to see. Jason turned to run, but Jonelle and Randi closed the door and stood in front of it. He turned back, his nostrils flaring.

“Those papers aren't real!”

“Oh, they’re real. And even if they weren't, we've got records of your travels to the New Age headquarters, and a couple of your goons that are willing to give you up in exchange for a lesser sentence. Take him into custody,” Cap said.

Wes stood up and took the handcuffs, cuffing him. He and Jonelle walked him down the hall to one of their makeshift cells. They locked the door behind him. Jonelle started to take off, but turned around when Wes didn't follow her.

“Wes.”

Wes shook his head. “I wanna talk with him.”

Jonelle nodded, walking away. Wes dragged a chair over in front of his cell, turning the chair backwards and sitting down on it. Jason looked up at him, contempt clearly visible on his face.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Jason spat. 

“You know what. Why did you lie to Travis?”

“You were easy pickings. And if Travis didn't believe me, Money wouldn't. No one would.”

“I feel sorry for you,” Wes said. Jason jumped up, clinging to the bars.

“You listen to me-”

“No, you listen to me!” Wes shouted, jumping up and grabbing Jason by the shirt, knocking his chair over, “You turned my best friend against me! Why? For money! If money’s the only thing you care about, then I do. I feel sorry for you. But I will _never_ forgive you. I have been miserable and lonely after the divorce and the suicide. I haven’t felt human! And when I’m with Travis…” He let go of his shirt and backed away, his voice dropping to a mumble. “I just feel better. Like maybe someone cares about me for once.”

He swallowed and abruptly turned and walked away. He was done with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> erggg help everything I write is sad. IT GETS BETTER, I PROMISE.
> 
> Also, in this chapter, Wes lets out his inner Nancy Drew.
> 
> I'm struggling with some personal issues right now, but I have at least the next chapter written. Thanks and happy reading!


	30. Thirty

“They’re back!”

They’re back, they’re back, they’re back. Couldn't anyone come up with something new to say? Travis trudged through the grounds toward the manor, wanting nothing more than a shower, a trim, and a good nap. Lots of people were running down the stairs to greet the warriors. Travis wished they wouldn't hug in the middle of the hallway, or scream in his ear as he was walking past. He saw blonde hair and looked up. Wes was across the room, looking like he saw a ghost. Travis couldn't do anything, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Wes looked good, really good… except for a bruise on his cheek. 

“Travis!” a voice called, and Travis’ head snapped over to look at one of his old buddies. He smiled and waved. He looked back over, but he knew Wes would be gone before he even saw the empty space where he’d been standing.

Travis made his way upstairs and to his bedroom. It was quiet, the bed messily made from when he’d left. Empty. He stripped off his dirty clothes and slipped into the shower, appreciating the hot water on his sore skin. He looked over his body. He had some scrapes on his hands and legs, some bruises on various body parts. Not so bad after the fight he’d been in.

He got out, wiping himself off with a towel. He groomed himself, trimmed his beard, and put on some cologne. Dressing in comfortable clothes, he hopped in bed and snuggled under the covers. Just as luck would have it, there was a knock on his door. He ignored it, and the knocking got louder.

“Go away! I’m trying to sleep!”

Jonelle burst in, looking furious with an armload of folders. Travis jumped up in bed.

“When the hell does ‘go away’ mean ‘come on in, Jonelle?’” he cried. She walked back toward the door, only to close it and walk back over.

“I know you’re tired, but you need to hear this.”

“Hear what?”

“It’s about Wes,” she said.

“I know I should have… it still doesn't mean I can trust him. He was asking about things.”

“Yeah, Wes started asking how things went around here. Because he’s new and trying to learn the ropes. And yeah, he used to work for the New Age group. Before he found out the lies,” Jonelle said. She flipped open one of the files she was holding. “Wesley Mitchell, age: 35, marital status: divorced, parents: alive. Squeaky clean record.”

She slammed the file on the bedside table next to Travis, causing him to jump.

“Here’s his high school record, college records, and law school records.”

She slapped the next folder down on the table. She held out an enormous file.

“Records of all the cases he was involved in, including Anthony Padua and all relevant news articles and records detailing the case, the suicide, and Wes quitting.”

She dropped the huge file on the table and opened another folder. She slid a paper across the table.

“The trail Wes left behind by accident when he looked up the financial records of the New Age.” She took out another. “Wes’ wanted poster.” And another. “Dishonorable discharge from service.” And another. “They’re taking away all pay and taking all possessions left in his unit.” She set down a few pictures of officers talking to unfamiliar people, an older couple and a pretty young woman. “Officers harassing his parents and ex-wife.” And she set down more papers. “His parents trying to disown him. And while you were gone, your foster brother, Jason? We found out he’s been selling the New Age group information. That’s why he was trying to turn you against Wes. He was worried Wes would recognize him.”

Travis stared at her in shock. Jonelle leaned over in his face, absolutely livid.

“It took me three days to find all this. That’s it. You should have looked this all up before you broke that man’s heart. If you thought he was acting, you’re wrong. Because he’s been trying to act like he’s okay. And he’s doing a horrible job at it.”

She started to walk away, then turned back around. “You had better at least apologize. And if he takes you back, you better work your ass off to deserve him.”

“Jonelle!”

“What, Travis?”

“I know I made a mistake. I should have looked this up first.”

“Don’t tell that to me. Tell that to Wes.” Jonelle walked back out, slamming the door behind her and leaving Travis alone with the crushing guilt.

 

The sun was setting when Travis finally found Wes. He approached quietly, hesitantly. Wes was sitting on the back stairs. The way the orange light of the sun hit his face made his throat tighten, made his heart flutter and his stomach to do flip-flops. He remembered the feeling of his skin sliding against his own, the feel of Wes’ heart beating beneath his hand. The thought of maybe failing, of Wes saying ‘no’ and walking away, of never being with him again made his heart ache so much that he felt nauseous. He had to try. Even if he didn't deserve a second chance.

Once he was close enough to be heard, Wes’ head whipped around. He hated the look on his face. He looked spooked, like he was going to run. Travis picked up the pace and grabbed Wes’ hand as he stood and turned to leave. Wes didn't turn around.

“Wes, please. Hear me out. I know I don’t deserve it, but… I want you back. I shouldn't have listened to Jason. When I was at camp, and some other guy was talking about his girlfriend, it reminded me of you and me. We’re like opposites, but sometimes we’re so alike.”

Wes finally turned around, and Travis let go of his hand, smiling a little.

“And we fight and argue and make fun of each other, but when we click, it’s amazing and like… nothing I've ever had. I made a mistake. I don’t want to lose my best friend over it.”

Wes smiled a little, stepping down so he was on the same step as Travis. “You made a _stupid_ and _terrible_ mistake.”

“Right.”

“Some might say idiotic. A colossally bad mistake.”

Travis rolled his eyes, smirking. “Okay, Wes, I get the point.”

“Maybe the-”

Wes stopped when Travis wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer and holding him. He’d missed that obnoxious cologne, the feel of his arms, and just that distinctly _Travis_ smell that he had to him that was so pleasant and warm. He hugged him back and breathed him in, smiling.

“It’s okay, Travis. I forgive you.” 

Travis pulled away, keeping his face close to Wes’. “I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was out there. I just want us to be okay again. We were doing so good.”

“I know. We’re okay. I know there was more to it. He was your foster brother. You trusted him. And you were scared,” Wes replied. He took Travis’ hand, looking at the scrapes on it. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Wes. Well, I haven’t gotten any for over a week, so I am a little horny-”

Wes punched him in the arm. “That’s not what I was asking about.”

Travis laughed. “Yeah, I’m good, baby.”

Wes leaned forward, pressing his lips to Travis’, a long, chaste kiss. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me, too,” Travis replied, stroking Wes’ cheek. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Wes smiled. “We’re gonna be okay.” 

Travis grinned and grabbed his hand, walking him through the door and inside. Wes wasn't really big on public displays of affection, but he didn't mind so much. Not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaaaaaaay they're back together and it will be all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. Or not, knowing my writing. Thanks for reading!


	31. Thirty-One

“Baby, those pants are kinda tight,” Travis said, glancing at his boyfriend’s ass. Wes glared at him and whacked him on the arm.

“Stop it. Pay attention, stupid.”

“Loser.”

“Jerk.”

“Gentlemen, please,” Dr. Ryan sighed, “Now, you all have been selected for various reasons to fulfill this mission. We want you to infiltrate the headquarters of the New Age and use their broadcasting equipment to broadcast our own film on the real dirt on the New Age. You’ll obviously have other units with you to take over the building, but that is _this_ group’s object. You must get to know each other, trust each other, and work together to achieve your goal. I will simply be observing your physical training, but we will have open sessions in which we will discuss things and get to know each other better.”

“…You’re saying we have to talk about our feelings?” a tall dark man said with a look on his face that looked like he tasted something sour. 

“Yes. Your feelings, your problems, and your goals are all fair game here. Let’s go around the circle and introduce ourselves. I’m Dr. Emma Ryan. I’ll oversee all training activities for this unit.”

“Dakota,” a small brunette said, waving with a cheery smile. Wes found himself glancing at Travis, looking for signs that he should be jealous. Travis simply glanced at her before his eyes traveled to the next person in the group.

“Peter.”

“Rozelle.”

“Clyde.”

There was a pause, and then Wes realized they were waiting on him. “Oh… Wes.”

“Travis.”

A middle-aged couple stood on their other side, and the woman gestured at the two of them. “The Dumonts.”

“Very good. It’s very nice to meet all of you. We’re going to start with an exercise that will open up the floor for discussion. We’re going to play ‘What’s in my pocket?’ The idea is to empty your pockets and tell the group what it is and why it’s there. Let’s sit.”

They pulled chairs into a circle and sat. First was Dakota. She had all sorts of odds and ends, including a picture of her niece, Sarah, whom she missed a lot. Wes rolled his eyes and focused his eyes on the ground, thinking about how they were wasting time and how they should be training.

“Wes?”

He looked up and glanced over at the others before him. Their pockets were emptied and they were holding their contents and staring at him expectantly.

“Nah, I doubt he can fit anything else in those pants,” Travis said. The group laughed, and Wes gave him a murderous glare.

“Of course I can. I would just rather not participate.”

“Does opening up to your unit scare you, Wes?”

“What? No. It’s just a waste of time,” he said. She seemed to be studying him, like every little movement was telling her a story. He crossed his legs and gave an impatient huff. “I think we’d be better off if we went on to the training.”

“Getting to know your team members is a very important thing, Wes. These men and women will have your back and be there for you, if you’ll only let them in a little.”

“Wes doesn't talk about things.”

“Neither do you.”

“I tell you about my mamas all the time,” Travis replied.

“What makes you think Wes doesn't talk about things, Travis?” Dr. Ryan asked.

“He doesn't ever talk about his childhood, or college, or law school, or his parents, or his ex-wife, or that kid he said committed sui-”

Wes stood up abruptly, his chair squealing from being pushed back. “Don’t.”

Travis looked up at him. “You don’t talk about any of that. I talk about stuff. And you shut me out.”

“Wes, do you think perhaps you’re holding people, your boyfriend included, at arm’s length in order to protect yourself?” Dr. Ryan spoke up. Wes just sat down, silent.

“Bam! Wes in a nutshell,” Travis said with a grin.

“And you, Travis, seem to use comedy and throwing blame on others to distract people from seeing your problems.” 

Travis immediately sobered and shook his head a little and frowned.

“Exactly. Especially the throwing blame,” Wes said, patting him on the back.

Dr. Ryan nodded a little before looking back at Wes. “Wes, would you like to share what’s in your pockets?”

He pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer and Travis laughed.

“He’s obsessed with things being clean.”

Wes shot him an annoyed look before pulling out a picture. Travis and Clyde leaned over to look at it before Wes held the picture out for the group to see. It had a young blonde couple on it, a small blonde boy sitting on the woman’s lap. “Me and my parents.”

“Aww you were so cute!” Dakota squealed. The group hummed in agreement. Wes’ ears turned red. Travis leaned around so he could see and smiled.

“What happened, huh?” he said softly, looking over at Wes. Wes gave him a soft smile back.

“And why is it in your pocket, Wes?” Dr. Ryan asked.

“I don’t know. My parents didn't support my decision to leave law. They were disappointed in my divorce. And now they’re trying to disown me. I should hate them. But I don’t. A part of me just wants them to love me for who I am,” Wes said. He hastily put his things back in his pockets. “Your turn, Travis.”

Travis pulled out a few coins, a used napkin, and small, smooth stone. He pressed his lips together and looked up at the group. “This, uh… napkin is from lunch. The change is from the vending machine. And the stone… okay, well, one day, one of my foster brothers and I were playing around. We found this rock… completely smooth. Just perfect. And he gave it to me, told me to keep it for good luck. And I've kept it ever since.”

He pocketed his things and they carried on with the session. As the group got up to go work out, Dr. Ryan called Wes over. 

“You and Travis are together again?” 

Wes blushed, remembering his rant the last time they saw each other. “Yeah.”

“You worked out your problem, then?”

“He said he made a mistake and that he wanted me back. I believe him.” It was true. He did. But he wasn't going to go into all the details. It wasn't her business. She nodded once.

“I’m glad to hear it. Have a good day, Wes,” she said, obviously dismissing him. He went over with the others and started warming up, ignoring their curious looks. He’d had enough of them being in his business that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. I wrote almost a whole chapter and then scrapped it because I didn't like where it was going. The next chapter does have sex in it, but it's woven in with the plot. Sorry if anyone was trying to avoid it, but it just came out that way. Thanks for reading! We're super close to the end :O


	32. Thirty-Two

Wes and Travis stepped into line in the cafeteria, arguing over who was better at push-ups. They filled up their trays as they went down the line. Travis was just insulting Wes when he looked at the dessert section. There was one piece of pie left. _Only one_. It was French silk, with whipped cream and delicious-looking crust. Travis wanted it. Wes spotted it at the same time. He could tell Wes wanted it, too, and he prepared himself for another food fight, but Wes glanced at him, then walked away to go find a table. Travis gaped at him for a moment before grabbing the pie and following him.

That was the first sign that Travis was in trouble.

Travis rested his head in Wes’ lap as he stretched out on the blanket Wes had laid out outside. Wes made a soft humming sound and ran his fingers through his hair. Travis closed his eyes, enjoying the gesture.

“You know what I miss?”

“Hm?”

Travis sighed. “When I was little, one of my mamas, Carmen , used to buy me soda when I was good. I just miss the taste of it.”

“Sweet tooth, huh?”

Travis chuckled. “Mhm. Don’t know why I like the taste of you so much, then.” He opened his eyes to watch Wes blush, but the blonde’s cheeks only turned a little pink.

The next day, Travis returned to their room after a workout, and there was a case of soda sitting on a table.

That was the second sign.

Wes stretched lazily, grunting and rolling back over. Travis was still asleep, but he slung his arm tighter around Wes. Wes smiled and kissed the tip of Travis’ nose. Travis twitched a little, but otherwise, made no movement. Wes laughed softly and kissed his cheek. Still no reaction. He pressed himself closer to Travis, and was suddenly very aware of his morning wood. Wes bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He cupped Travis’ erection in his hand and stroked him through his boxers. Travis sighed softly, rolling onto his back. Wes chuckled and went down his body, stroking the skin right above his boxers. Travis stirred a little. Wes pulled his boxers down and wrapped his mouth around Travis’ cock, tasting and licking him. Travis opened his eyes, his breathing speeding up as he looked down.

“Jesus, Wes…” he grunted. He reached out a hand and twisted his fingers in Wes’ hair. Wes licked a stripe along the underside of his shaft before taking as much of him in as he could. Wes hummed a little and Travis could feel the vibrations. “Fuck,” he moaned. His grip on Wes had to hurt a little. He tried to loosen his grip on his hair, run his fingers through his hair as Wes was swallowing him again, bobbing his head and making Travis pant. Wes took his mouth away and Travis wanted to throttle him for that smirk, but then he was licking his head and taking him in again. But what Travis wanted most, what set his skin on fire, was what he wasn’t getting. “Wes,” he murmured. The blonde looked up at him with those gray-blue eyes, his mouth still around his cock, and Travis came.

Wes swallowed everything Travis gave him before pulling away and tucking Travis back in. He grinned and crawled back up to the head of the bed, kissing him and nuzzling his neck. Travis sighed, trying to keep his eyes open.

“That was the best wake-up call I've gotten in a long time,” he mumbled. Wes kissed his cheek and rolled out of bed. “Huh? Wes, let me take care of you.”

“It’s okay. You go back to sleep. I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, patting Travis’ leg and heading off to the bathroom.

That was it. He had tried to ignore the suspicions earlier, but this made no sense to him. Unless Wes was in love with him. That made sense. They’d been thrown together and had a rather romantic beginning. They’d spent a long time together, and were now living together. They did practically everything together. It seemed like the next logical step. But Travis didn't love Wes. He loved spending time with him, kissing him, running his fingers through his hair, staring at his freckles, touching his dimples, watching him concentrate on something really hard or sleep with a smile… but he was _not_ in love with him. If he was in love with him and Wes left, it would hurt too much. But he wasn't. 

He was pretty sure Wes was, though, and that made him panic. It made him question why Wes did nice things, made him hesitate to kiss him, and kept him up at night. The group sat down in their chairs at their regular time. Wes had a grin on his face.

“All right. Let’s do some group stuff. It’s a good day. It’s a good day to-”

“Wes is in love with me,” Travis blurted out. Wes looked over at him in shock.

“What?”

“First he let me have the last pie, and then he got me soda because I was talking about it, and then he gave me head and didn't ask for any in return,” he blurted out again. He immediately felt bad about the head comment when Wes’ face turned bright red and he looked uncomfortable. Rozelle fanned herself a little, and Dakota giggled at her. The men looked uncomfortable, and Clyde said “TMI,” under his breath.

“No subject’s off-limits here,” Dr. Ryan said, “Travis, to you, these kindnesses translated as love?”

“Yeah. I mean, why else would he do them?”

“I-I’m not… I just did all that stuff to be nice,” Wes stammered.

“You don’t seem very nice,” Dakota said. She paused and turned red. “I mean… oh, I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

Wes held his face in his hands, groaning and refusing to look at anyone. “I am,” he grumbled, “I’m in love with you.”

Travis heard a couple of the ladies make appreciative cooing sounds, but his eyes were trained on Wes. “Wes…” he said hesitantly. Wes held up a hand.

“I don’t want you to say it back. Not if you don’t mean it. And I don’t want to scare you away. It’s just a fact, okay?”

Travis nodded slowly, taking Wes’ hand off his face and kissing his cheek. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, some time has passed since they arrived there. Good for Wes for admitting it, right? Thanks for reading!


	33. Thirty-Three

Wes and Travis were stretching with the others when Captain Sutton walked in. They stopped talking and stood straighter. He smiled grimly.

“All right, people. Tomorrow’s the day. I want you to spend today resting. You’ll need it. Dismissed for today.”

The other people in their group walked off, murmuring. Wes and Travis looked at each other awkwardly.

“Last day.”

“It’s not the _last day_ , Wes. We’re not gonna die,” Travis snapped. Wes put a hand to Travis’ cheek, sighing.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said. He ran his thumb over the other man’s lips. Maybe if he pretended he wasn't scared, then he wouldn't look it. Travis took his hand in his and kissed it. He grinned at him.

“We’re going to have the best day, okay?” 

Wes gave him a skeptical look. “What do you have planned?”

“Nothing! That’s the best part!”

He laughed and pulled Wes along. They found Jonelle and Randi and had lunch with them. Wes kept asking Travis what he had planned for the day, but Travis refused to say. They went up to their room after lunch, and Travis took two of his soda cans, tossing one to Wes. 

“One of your precious sodas?”

“Yeah, you’re lucky you get one,” Travis said, taking his hand and leading him out of the room.

Wes laughed. “I _gave_ you those sodas!”

Travis pulled him down the hallway and up some stairs that Wes didn't know existed. They laughed as Travis tripped on the stairs and pulled Wes down with him. When they were up and walking again, Travis pushed open a hatch. They climbed out onto the roof together, looking out past the house. The area was heavily wooded and beautifully green. Travis found as flat an area as possible and sat down, cracking open his soda. Wes did the same and took a swig.

“It’s good.”

“Mhm.”

Wes looked over at him. “Why did you bring me up here?”

“Well, before you came here, I used to like to sit up here and think. I wondered who my birth parents were. I wondered what I was supposed to do with my life. And I wondered when I’d stop feeling so damn lonely,” Travis said, “And then I met you and we fought and yelled at each other and called each other names, but that lonely feeling in the pit of my stomach goes away when I’m around you.”

“I was lonely, too, you know.”

Travis glanced at him and nodded. “I know. Back when we’d just met, I went through your room. I read your letters. I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to be unwanted. I went from foster to foster home… until I was eighteen and out of the system. I've never felt like I belonged anywhere.”

He set his can down and slid his arms around Wes. Wes hesitated, surprised, and then set his can down to hold him. He kissed his head.

“Me, too,” he whispered. He hoped he knew what he meant. 

 

When they finally went back inside and in their room, it was dark. Wes couldn't get his heart to stop beating so fast. Travis grabbed him and he felt the slide of his lips against his boyfriend’s, was pushed on the bed with Travis rubbing him through his pants. He let Travis’ tongue in his mouth, his hands going to Travis’ face. Eventually the touching stopped and Travis pulled away. 

“You’re not getting hard,” Travis sighed. Wes looked down, his face heating up. He was right. He wasn't getting an erection. He knew why, but he didn't want to say it. “What’s on your mind?”

Wes kissed him with more force, but Travis pulled away again.

“What’s on your mind, Wes?”

“What if we…?” _Die_. Travis read the rest of the sentence on his face. 

“We’re not going to. We’ll be fine.”

“Travis-” Travis shut him up with a kiss.

“If we’re gonna have sex, it’s because we want to have sex, not because we think we’re going to die.” Travis rolled off of him and slid on the bed, pulling Wes’ head into his lap. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. When this war is over, we’re going to move away from here. Just you and me.”

“I’m tired of running. I’m tired of hiding,” Wes said. Travis ran his fingers through his hair, nodding.

“Me, too. But we’ll settle down.”

“You’d settle down, Romeo?” Wes asked, looking up at him. Travis booped his nose and smiled.

“Anything for you, Juliet.”

Wes laughed. “I am _not_ Juliet. Where are we gonna live?”

“Anywhere. Somewhere sunny. We’ll get a big house-”

“House?”

“House. We need a yard so you can have your garden and I can have a dog.”

“A _dog_? No, you’ll never take care of it.”

“Yes, I will!” Travis cried, “I swear, you have no faith in me, baby. And to think, I gave you a garden.”

“Okay, okay. I take care of the garden, you take care of the dog,” Wes said, chuckling. Travis grinned.

“Deal. And we’ll have sex in every room.”

“I refuse to have sex in the kitchen,” Wes said. He pushed himself up so his head was even with Travis’. Travis pretended to be disturbed by this news.

“But, baby, we have to christen every room. And the backyard.”

“No!” Wes laughed, “What if someone saw us?!”

“Then they’d get a good show,” Travis said with an eyebrow waggle. Wes chuckled and whacked him.

“Idiot.”

“Asshole.”

“Jerk.”

Travis gave him a peck on the lips and leaned back, closing his eyes. Wes snuggled up to him. Travis fell asleep quickly. Wes listened to him breathing softly and felt his chest rising and falling. He wanted all of that. He wanted Travis, a new life, something different from all this fighting and hiding.

“I love you,” he murmured, and Travis made a soft humming noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you didn't know, 'booping' is lightly poking someone on the tip of their nose with your finger. There is really no elegant way to say that, so booped it is. Thanks for reading!


	34. Thirty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for scenes of war and violence.

Travis and Wes woke up early in the morning. They took turns showering and got dressed in silence. They ate breakfast with the others like usual. They packed up and headed out for their journey. Days and days of driving with only a few stops to change drivers or to relieve themselves. The group was in a van together, at the head of the group. They eventually reached their destination, making camp a good distance away. They headed over for the headquarters.

“Look,” Dakota breathed. Blue uniforms surrounded the building. The army of black assembled, guns pointed back at them. Money stepped out, signaling a few to come with him. Wes and Travis stood beside him with a few others. A woman in blue and a group of others stepped out from the New Age group. Travis glanced at Wes. He wondered if he knew them.

They walked toward each other, meeting in the middle. Money nodded.

“We don’t want bloodshed. Surrender your headquarters and no one will be harmed.”

The woman shook her head. “Surrender to us.”

“You’re following a man who doesn't care about you. He just wants power, and he’ll always persecute someone because he’s just a cruel man,” Money said. 

“Negotiations are over. Get back to your troops and prepare yourself for battle.”

Travis was scared to death to turn his back on them, but he and the others did and returned to the rebel side. Travis had never been in a battle. He was thankful he had a mission, that he and the others in their group were supposed to fight to get in, not just stay there and fight until they all died or surrendered. It was so frustrating. These people didn't know what they were fighting for. Sure, some people would probably still fight for the New Age, but those that didn't know, didn't believe them… it didn't seem right to kill them.

Travis looked around and noticed Wes had been shoved a few feet away. He didn't have time to do anything now. He wasted so much time. He should have kissed Wes one more time, touched his shoulder after negotiations, ran his fingers through his hair, made him laugh to see his dimples. He should have told him a million things. He should have asked a million things. Money brought them to attention, and it hit Travis how he could lose so much. Money was the first person they would aim for, his brother that had been there for him when he was trying to figure out girls, that had helped him solve cases, that had helped him have purpose in the resistance. He tried to hold himself together, but it felt like he was falling apart. He cocked his gun, his hands shaking. It wasn't like in movies, majestic and silent and in slow-motion. There was the noise of feet shuffling, coughs, guns clicking and voices shouting out orders. And then there was a cry of ‘Fire!’

Chaos. Travis aimed at blue and fired. He couldn't see if he hit anyone. There were too many people ahead of him and he didn’t really want to know. He heard the bullets ripping through the air, heard them rip through people’s bodies, watched them fall over in pain. He kept shooting. His group kept close together, trying to maneuver themselves toward the entrance. They fought through the crowds. They kept pushing the New Age group further and further back. They outnumbered the New Age group by a lot. It smelled like sweat and blood. Travis tried to keep an eye on his group and Money. Everyone was tired, and it was getting dark. Pretty soon, they wouldn’t be able to see. 

“Target the ones around the entrance!” Travis shouted. Wes hit someone right away. There was an opening, if they could just take it. Money was leading an attack further down the line that the New Age group was concentrated on. They took it.

Travis aimed for legs, shoulders, arms. He stepped around bodies, slipped in blood.Their backup had their backs. They only had moments before the blue would be on them. As soon as they got the door open, people were falling over. The entrance was heavily guarded inside as well. Peter got hit in the arm and Travis cursed, covering for him while he got his bearings. 

They soon had them falling back. They were slowly making their way through the building, posting people at the entrance and other rooms. They were succeeding, and Travis was getting optimistic. He saw people in blue shouting and heading for cover, pulling their leader along down the hall and out of sight. This had to be known. They could take over the headquarters _and_ take Roberts into custody.

That’s when he heard Wes cry out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The war scenes weren't realistic at all, I'm sure, but I did my best to keep the story going. Hopefully I've still got you reading! We're nearing the end, folks!


	35. Thirty-Five

Sharp, hot pain. Wes cried out, gripping his shoulder. Rozelle stepped in front of him, covering from him, and Clyde did the same.

“Come on, Wes, get yourself together. Okay?” Rozelle said. But he didn't have a chance to answer before Travis was at his side and Clyde was covering for him instead.

“Travis! Get back in line!” Clyde shouted.

“I’m fine! Get back!” Wes cried, pushing him away. Travis got back in line, and Wes gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. They cornered Wes’ commanding officer. Travis got it out that Roberts was in the building, and they sent people to take over parts of the building. They were slowly securing the entire building. Wes held a gun to the woman’s head.

“Where is Roberts?”

When she was silent, he pushed his gun closer until he was touching her head.

“Where is he?”

“Traitor.”

“You don’t know the things I know! Where is he?!”

“They took him toward the south end of the building. That’s all I know.”

Travis walked up to her and added his gun to her head.

“Please, I’m telling the truth!”

“Now, tell us where Kendall is!”

“Kendall? That computer girl? She’s being held in the east part of the building.”

Travis grabbed Wes and pulled him off to the side and behind a partition, kissing him passionately. Wes kissed back, holding on to him for dear life. He pulled away after a few moments. He looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. “I have to save Kendall.”

“I have to find Roberts.”

Travis touched his bloody shoulder, but Wes pushed him away.

“I told you, I’m fine. It grazed me.”

“We’re going to get a house somewhere sunny,” Travis murmured, holding his boyfriend’s face. Wes nodded and put his hand over Travis’.

“With a dog and a yard.”

Travis reached in his pocket and took out his lucky rock. He put it in Wes’ hand despite the blonde’s protests. “I want you to have it.” He kissed him again. “I love you, Wes.”

“Don’t you dare die, or I’ll kill you,” Wes managed to get out. Travis gave a pained laugh, and just like that, he was gone. Wes pulled himself together as fast as he could and pocketed the smooth stone. He got a group together and they headed south.

 

Travis and his troops were headed east. They covered each room they passed, making sure Kendall wasn't being held there. There was a commotion coming from an office, and Travis made sure he was covered as he opened the door. They held up their guns, but there didn't seem to be anyone in the room. Travis peeked around the corner. A couple New Age officers lay on the floor. Kendall was leaning over them, taking a gun. She looked up and grinned.

“Hey, there, handsome. What brings you here?”

“I was _trying_ to rescue you,” Travis said with a chuckle.

“No damsels in distress here,” she said, cocking the gun, “Let’s go get that broadcast going.”

 

They were in a shoot-out. The few officers left with Roberts were getting shot down one by one. When he saw Roberts and an officers slip around the corner, Wes ran for it. He sprinted around the corner and ducked behind a chair as a bullet whizzed by him. 

“Give up, Roberts!” Wes shouted. The only response was the officer shooting at Wes. Wes waited for the right moment, knew it would come… and then the officer stepped out too far and Wes knew he had him. He got him right in the shoulder and the man fell over with a cry. Roberts looked scared. He grabbed the officer’s gun and hid behind a couch. Wes thought of everything that that man had done to him, thought of all the lives he’d ruined and grabbed a shield off a fallen officer. He stood and walked over to the man, shielding himself from the bullets. Roberts looked terrified, absolutely petrified, as Wes slammed the shield into his head. The shock of the impact had Roberts dropping his gun, and Wes kicked it out of the way and pinned him to the floor.

“How dare you!” Wes shouted at him, “All your hate and your prejudices? Make you so goddamn ugly. You go around, masquerading as peace and justice and all you do is hate. Did you know I’m in love with a man?”

“Disgusting. And you used to be one of us,” Roberts hissed. Wes punched him hard and heard a crack. 

“He’s a better man than you’ll ever be. And so am I. You’re just a piece of trash.”

“You gonna kill me, you fucker?” Roberts laughed, blood pouring out of his nose.

“No,” Wes hissed, “I’m going to let you live. I’m going to let you rot in jail. You’ll never see your family again except through bars. And I’m going to go live with my boyfriend and never think of you again.”

He hit him over the head, knocking him out, and stood, letting the rebels take him into custody.

“Wes!” 

He looked up and smiled at Kendall rounding the corner. She ran over and hugged him. Travis rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks upon seeing Wes. He walked over and rubbed blood off his face.

Wes shook his head. “Not mine.” 

Travis glanced around him and his mouth fell open when he saw Roberts bloodied up. Wes took his face in his hands and made him look at him. “I didn't kill him.”

Travis took a breath. “No one would have blamed you. But you did the right thing.”

“I know,” Wes said, kissing him softly.


	36. Epilogue

Wes let his fingers sift through the dirt. It was unpleasant, and he wanted to wash his hands immediately, but anything worth working for had some dirt to it. He stood up and admired his work. 

“It looks great, baby.” 

Wes smiled and looked over at Travis. “You think? I was wondering if maybe I planted too many…”

“No, it’s perfect,” he said, pulling out a packet and tearing it open. He offered Wes the hand wipe and Wes took it, cleaning the dirt off his hands. 

The war was over. The country was dealing with the aftermath. The New Age had lost. Roberts was still in jail. A new president had been elected, and laws promoting gay marriage were in the works. For good or for bad, the country was very changed. It was a new age, but nothing like what Roberts had wanted. Wes couldn't wipe his hands entirely clean, though. He never could.

Travis wrapped an arm around him. “We should get ready for the party.”

Wes wrapped his own arm around Travis’ waist and walked with him toward their back door. “Right. Jonelle’s bringing her boyfriend and Money’s coming early to help.”

“And Randi’s bringing Hudson.”

“Oh no. Charlie’s going to go nuts.”

“Charlie’s a good boy,” Travis cooed at their dog, patting his leg so their dog would follow after them. Wes made a noise of concern.

“No, no. I just vacuumed!” 

“Too late! Come on, Charlie!” 

“Travis. Travis!”

He watched Travis and Charlie run up to the house with a smile on his face. Sometimes, a little dirt wasn't so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! Thank you to everyone that read this. I had a blast writing it. Please review, comment, give kudos, anything to let me know how I did! I'm currently working on two Common Law projects, so you're not rid of me! Thanks again!


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